


In His Element

by evr



Category: Tales of Zestiria
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-07
Updated: 2018-02-26
Packaged: 2018-10-15 21:46:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 23,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10558204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evr/pseuds/evr
Summary: Summoner AU.Sorey has always demonstrated a strong connection to the world of spirits and elementals. Someday, he'd like to bring that world closer to his own.





	1. streamside

**Author's Note:**

> This is kind of aimless so I'll pick at it whenever I feel up to it.  
> Rating may change, etc etc. I just wanted to play with the setup.
> 
> I haven't been around for ages, whoops. Sorry my first work in forever is this silly thing.

 

 

Children don't belong in those books, that's what everyone liked to say. But Sorey didn't understand that, while he understood the books just fine. Demons, spirits, and elementals he understood perfectly clear, but adults? They were the real mystery. He didn't want to solve that one anytime soon though. Growing up _apparently_ made people boring.

Elysia was a small mountain town full of spirits. Not many people seemed to know it was so full of spirits, but Gramps knew, and that was the important part. He was the one giving Sorey his education, so he allowed Sorey to read those evidently-super-difficult books. He hand-picked the ones that he thought Sorey was ready for, not letting him get too carried away, and he always insisted that someday Sorey would be grateful for it. His favorite was lauded as a fictional tome by the adults around him. When he wanted to correct them, Gramps held a finger to his lips and grinned.

Adults were weird, anyway. They called Mikleo imaginary.

Sorey was very defensive of his friend, to the point that Gramps couldn't shush him. Gramps saw Mikleo every day, but he didn't defend him at all, or talk about him to others. He just watched over them while they read books in the house and played together by the water.

In all fairness, Mikleo was just a little wisp when they first met, a new spirit, and Sorey may have been small, still a toddler, but he could still see and understand this tiny glow. When he reached for it, he knew that it was a young boy like him, barely older, and he hadn't made a connection to the world yet. Sorey offered himself as that connection before he understood precisely what that meant for either of them.

It resulted in a bond, over time it gave Mikleo a somewhat physical body for the world Sorey dwelled in. They shared without words before the two of them could talk. They held hands as soon as their fingers were long enough to allow for it. They shared secrets before they truly understood the concept.

"I want to be a summoner," Sorey announced one day, poring over books on this latest topic Gramps had granted him access to, piled around an oil lamp and sitting on his knees on his favorite green blanket. He had a fresh papercut on his hand that Mikleo kept attempting to soothe, small hands around his own.

"Do those even exist anymore?" The young sprite looked skeptical, but his expression carried warmth and concern. He was all too pleased when the water he conjured started to glow and repair the tiny cut on Sorey's hand. Healing spells are apparently difficult, but Sorey wouldn't really know about that. As a human, his knowledge of spells would never match up to someone who could actually cast them.

He beamed up at his friend. Oh, he didn't mind about the cut, he knew Mikleo could succeed in healing it no matter the difficulty. He flipped to a certain page in the book and pointed triumphantly at old drawings of a fancy building neither of them had ever seen, "Gramps said this place is for training Summoners, and it still exists! And when I'm old enough, he'll let me go there!"

"How old is 'old enough' to someone ancient like him?" Mikleo's mouth curled into a smile, proud of his own wit. "Why should an adult be the one to decide what age is appropriate?"

"Well…" Sorey faltered, "It's Gramps. We can trust him." He flipped through the pages, his smile faded but still present. "I want to go. And you can be my partner!"

"Summoners don't have partners, idiot," Mikleo corrected him with a frown, "And if you want to be a _Shepherd_ , those definitely don't exist anymore."

Sorey laughed and took his hand back, skimming over a passage in the book. "I wonder why they don't exist now?"

"The method to become one was forgotten," Mikleo explained, "At least, elder sprites keep saying that around here."

" _Shepherds have a unique ability to trap their summoned spirits in their own body and make the power their own._ That's all it says in here," Sorey recited, deflating, "The Celestial Record explains it more, though."

"Shepherds don't exist," Mikleo reminded him in a teasing tone, "You can't even summon yet, so why bother with such lofty goals?"

"I'll summon! I'll summon you first," Sorey practically glowed with his announcement, "Then you'll have to do my bidding, and say something nice about me."

"Never!" The water sprite giggled through the word, and Sorey grabbed his sides, tickling him until they fell over in a heap.

Breathless, Sorey smoothed down Mikleo's pretty hair and smiled at him again. He'd done it wrong, and Mikleo fixed it right away, but Sorey was pleased anyway, "I want to try summoning you now," he admitted.

Mikleo paused. "It's fine the way it is, isn't it? You and Gramps can see me." He was right to be nervous, they both knew it. Sorey had absolutely no training, and failing the incantations would potentially harm them both.

"Yeah… I guess," Sorey looked heartbroken anyway, and Mikleo hesitantly patted his head.

"It's okay," he said, "You need to come up with your Summoner Name, so let's do that first."

With delight, Sorey abandoned his disappointment when faced with his new task. He swept books from one corner of the floor to another, preferring now his dictionaries of the ancient tongue that was used for summoning spells. It was a daunting task, gaining fluency in it, and Mikleo had an annoyingly strong head start, but he browsed for hours until Mikleo interrupted him with a suggestion.

 _Shepherd Sorey_.

It sounded fancier in the language of ancients, and Sorey felt chills when he heard Mikleo say it. Somehow he knew it was perfect. That was his Name.

 

* * *

  


Elysian Summers weren't all that warm, Sorey noted as he and Mikleo walked through the forest. It kept getting hotter as they descended and Mikleo would touch his forehead and cheeks with cool hands, buying him just a few more hours of comfort. Mikleo had dozens of neat tricks that solved so many problems. He'd never bothered with a waterskin before, and this was the first time he'd ever brought one, strapped to his pack. Mikleo kept eyeing it warily.

"You smell like rosemary today," he said distantly, "You tried again?"

"Had to," Sorey admitted sheepishly, letting out an embarrassed laugh. He knew he could do it - summon, that is - but Mikleo forbade it until he could recite everything flawlessly. And after that, he forbade it until Sorey could come up with binding contracts in the ancient language that weren't the ones listed. Mikleo was strict about it too, pointing out loopholes and making Sorey try again and again.

Rosemary was meant to increase a Summoner's abilities, so he and Mikleo made rosemary tea together every day, and Sorey would secretly meditate on both his and his friend's Names.

Mikleo's Name was trickier than his own. It made sense; beings from Mikleo's world were born with their Names and yet Sorey picked his as a child, and it sort of showed. Luckily it was a secret, or he might be embarrassed by it; what sort of person would take a Name like that? It was too high a title for anyone to just claim for themselves. Still, he basked in the ideas and fantasies of making it true. The best part was that Mikleo never teased him for choosing it. It made the Name feel even better, like a warm glow in his chest.

But Mikleo's, oh, his was perfect already. He was so bossy and always had been, always taking care of everything and making sure every detail ran smoothly for everything they did. Sorey's life was planned out down to the minute thanks to Mikleo's care. There were just a few details he knew needed to change, though he didn't especially like it.

Gramps also forbade any attempts to summon a spirit, even just for practice, even just for _Mikleo_ , until he could complete an apprenticeship in Ladylake. It had taken years to convince him he was ready for such a thing, and even then he carried doubts Sorey could handle it. Both he and Mikleo packed and re-packed his belongings several times before Sorey's departure. They both really worried for him, but Sorey knew he'd be fine.

"Did anything happen?" Mikleo asked insistently, taking both of Sorey's hands and looking him over, carefully inspecting his eyes. The sunlight was coming directly down on them when they reached the first clearing, and Mikleo always looked like he was glistening in bright daylight. Sorey almost flinched. It could be a little blinding.

"No!" Sorey insisted. It was fine to worry, he knew it came from a good place, but Mikleo acted like he just didn't trust him! "I stopped short of saying your Name. Like always."

From one eye to the other, Mikleo's eyes stayed on his face, eyebrows drawn in worry. "Okay," he finally murmured, expression relaxing with a half-smile, "Okay, so long as that's all."

"Of course."

The worst part of this whole situation was that Mikleo and Gramps seemed to know things they weren't telling him. In Mikleo's case he knew it might not be a choice, but Gramps was probably just being stingy with information. He always was. Mikleo's relieved face almost made him drop the subject. "Why are you so against it? Don't you want to come to this world?"

Mikleo started walking ahead of him, and he scrambled to catch up. "It's not that," he admitted, "But you're really talented. There's no guarantee you'd say my Name. You'll call on someone who matches your strength."

"But I should feel it inside me, right? So I can just stop if I don't feel yours." He would have argued Mikleo's point about their strength, because he knew Mikleo was his equal, but Mikleo would just clam up and not discuss it with him anyway.

"So whose Name did you feel?"

"I didn't feel any," He confessed. Mikleo was hard to keep up with; he was taller than Sorey now (Gramps kept telling him he'd catch up, but that was hard to believe. He called him a 'late bloomer'), and his legs were long and when he was unhappy his strides were deliberate and fast. "So it doesn't matter, right?"

"It does," Mikleo complained, arms folded in a huff, "You only know half the contracts by heart, and you haven't worded your own to protect yourself. Until you can learn to do that, of course I don't want you to try to summon me. Especially not anyone else."

Sorey paused in his tracks, and Mikleo stopped too - he never would have gone too far ahead, after all. "But if I summon _you_ , why would it matter? I trust you. And if other spirits are anything like you, then--"

Mikleo's expression darkened, "They're not. I promise you, they aren't."

Sorey frowned. They continued on the path in silence, right up to the edge of the forest. That was it.

The bridge had been out for months, blocking supplies in and out of Elysia, and many of the villagers preferred it that way. Outside dealers brought only trouble, they'd always said, but Sorey and Mikleo would spend every coin they had when the book peddlers came into town. They'd missed them this year without the bridge.

"Alright. I can make a path across for us," Mikleo decided, beaming somewhat proudly. With a sweep of his arm, cold air swarmed around him and spread out, water from nothing crackling and reaching across the gap, solidifying into a bridge.

"Whoa!" Sorey gasped, eagerly rushing ahead to test it. Mikleo caught his arm.

"It's ice, stupid! You need to walk carefully or you'll fall off!"

They pouted at each other for a few solid seconds and then Sorey cracked a smile first, so Mikleo softened. "Hold my hand?" He asked, cheeks flushing slightly at his own request. Mikleo nodded easily, holding his fingers tightly as he made his way across, slipping only once and striking a triumphant pose at the other side.

Mikleo pushed him along, "C'mon, let's keep going. I don't want to have to camp out overnight and still be inside the barrier."

"We've never been out this far, how do you know how long it'll take?"

"I listen," Mikleo answered, "They usually say it's a three-day trip to Ladylake. And since we're unencumbered, we should get there faster. And then we should be able to hitch a ride to Pendrago with the funds from Gramps." It might have been amusing that Mikleo listened when no one could listen back, or even speak directly to him, but it was just like him to pay attention to these little things, conversations other people carried over him. Sorey beamed at him with a sort of pride, and Mikleo pulled a face and pushed him to keep moving again.

They spent hours walking together still, entertaining each other with quizzes and trivia that they both knew by heart, then speculation as to what they'd find in the city. Sorey adopted a guilty look, but he continued on.

"Do you really want to go to the city?" He eventually asked.

"Of course I do. Who will keep an eye on you, if not me?" Mikleo crossed his arms.

The sun was low enough in the sky that colors filtered through the barrier, shining odd lights on Mikleo's face. He looked warm and lovely at this time of day, sparkling with ambers and golds. Sorey almost blurted out something stupid, but snapped his jaw shut, shook his head, and grabbed for Mikleo's hands, "I want you to stay inside the barrier!"

Mikleo scowled, his arms folded tighter to prevent Sorey from grabbing him as he'd tried, "What are you talking about? We're almost at the edge now."

"Exactly! I have to say it before you cross over!" He had to settle for resting his hands over Mikleo's arms, leaning close to his face, "Gramps said it's dangerous for you to cross here. We're protected in here, but you won't be safe once we pass through."

Mikleo's expression darkened further, and he stood there examining Sorey for a full minute. Sorey wasn't lying, though, so he couldn't find what he was looking for and grew more annoyed, "You know that isn't true."

"Huh?" Sorey faltered, "No, he said that because you're still technically attached to the spirit world, you--"

"It's a lie," Mikleo stopped him, but remained unmoving, "It's a lie to protect you. Because he doesn't trust me not to abuse your Name once we leave."

There was a pause, and Sorey opened his mouth and closed it four times before Mikleo continued.

"The barrier does nothing to protect me, it's all for you. It's so the spirits of the town can't tempt you or trap you. Once we leave, you'll still see plenty of us, but I'll be the one who knows your Name. He's lying to you to protect you from _me_."

"That can't be right!" Sorey argued, his fingers curling into Mikleo's sleeve.

"Of course it is!" Mikleo raised his voice - he almost never did that - and jerked away.

"What makes you so sure? He likes you!"

"Sure, he likes me fine in here, where his waning magic keeps you safe. And now he's lied to you so that you'll be safe from me."

Sorey watched him, watched him re-fold his arms, watched him huff indignantly and avert his eyes. Gramps knew Mikleo wasn't an evil creature, so nothing added up, not at all. Mikleo was upset, so maybe that's why he was saying those things. Sorey didn't know how to reassure him. Maybe he was unaware of just how much Gramps protected and cared for them both. "It's okay," he said suddenly.

Mikleo gave him a questioning look.

"You'll be the first one I summon. I promise."

Mikleo looked stricken, his shoulders sinking. "You're really leaving me behind, aren't you?" When Sorey didn't answer, his eyes hardened angrily, "You'll regret this, Sorey."

He seemed so hurt that Sorey's resolve very nearly wavered. "We'll work this out."

"It's your choice. You're responsible for it." The blunt way he spoke when angry always left a sort of prickling feeling in Sorey's chest, and there it was again. It was easier to recognize the bond between them once it was severed, forcibly ripped out by roots winding around his heart and mind, leaving an impression like a fresh wound, tender and aching. Sorey covered his chest with his fist, shocked, but said nothing. The world spun, dizzying him and clouding his vision. He felt a little like he was melting and he lurched forward, gripping at soft earth under him as though it could truly ground him. He was drowning somehow, the hollowed-out spot inside of him where Mikleo had once latched on filled itself back in to mend and he blinked away the fog, but the world was just a bit dimmer.

Mikleo wasn't there. Sorey's fingers sank too easily into the dirt and he stared at it, noting how wet it was. Mikleo was so dramatic! Melting into water just because he's mad, that was just dramatics, right?

"You didn't have to do that…" Sorey mumbled at the mud, wiping his hands off on his shorts. He waited through a long silence before huffing and turning around. "Suit yourself!"

Still, he waited a few minutes longer before stomping off. His legs were unsteady and tired after that episode. Really tired. Mikleo had said it should be less than three days unencumbered, but he began to have his doubts if that was enough to wear him out so much.

 

* * *

 

 

Ladylake was such a big place, he could see it already in the morning of his second day walking, following the river like the water had mapped his course for him. His clothes were caked in dried, cracked dirt and once he could see the towering structures over the lake ahead he stopped to wash it off. The water was colder than he thought it should be, and he yelped aloud and complained about it, waiting for an explanation that never came.

It drew his attention back to the empty spot in his soul where Mikleo belonged, bringing him a bitter, guilty pain in his gut. It had to be Mikleo making him feel that way, right? Twisting and turning and making him ill at the very thought. A little time would file off the edges of their fight, he was sure, but that didn't mean he wanted to suffer through any physical aches. The pain was a new touch; he'd never think Mikleo would do that sort of thing. He wasn't mean or spiteful, not in any real way. He'd just sulk for a while, then Sorey would summon him and they'd sort it out.

Tender and red like a mild burn, he left that ache inside of him alone. It must be a mistake. Or maybe that was exactly how it felt to leave Mikleo on the other side of the barrier. Maybe neither of them could have prevented it.

"Oh well!" Sorey decided, stretching out his sore limbs and splashing his face with water, "No turning back now."

The stream glittered in the morning light, leading the way. He redressed himself and prepared to continue on the path the water carved, filling his waterskin and drying his clothes and thinking ahead of all the things he'd experience, all the things he'd be able to tell Mikleo as soon as he was a qualified summoner. He wondered if there were any in the city ahead. The school wasn't in Ladylake, but he knew there had once been a council of summoners who worked in the palace.

He'd done so much research, it seemed hard to believe that he wasn't ready to start trying already. It was that note of worry in Mikleo's eyes that had always held him back.

Mikleo wasn't there anymore though. Sorey could do whatever he pleased. Sorey could bring his core to his world and he could stay, he didn't need to be there as half a being as he always had been. People could see him and interact with him properly, and they'd be able to travel together like they both wanted to. He'd promised Gramps to wait, but… Impatience was winning out.

His clothes were still damp, but he pulled them back on anyway and decided Mikleo, as a water elemental, would dry them out for him. He had to try. He'd never been alone even this long, no matter how mad they were at each other. Mikleo had always praised his ability to memorize the ancient language, and if he was binding Mikleo he wouldn't need to be strict with the wording of his contract. They'd been bonded already, that's what the empty feeling was all about after all. It would be safe.

He'd tried it once or twice before only, and just halfheartedly, but he was motivated to get it right this time, make sure their pact formed permanently and solid.

Two deep breaths and he sat on a boulder on the riverbank, closing his eyes and wincing as he dragged his small travel knife across his palm. He usually skipped this step, or found ways to try and alter it to better suit them. The reason blood was needed was kind of lost on him anyway, but it seemed to be a physical way to focus his spirit, dripping into the water and getting carried away downstream.

Maybe he was a little overconfident, or overexcited, but he steadily spoke each word of a traditional contract.

First, the plea: a reason for summoning an elemental. Words were important here, and could easily change the characteristics or quality of whoever he managed to call upon. For example, asking for assistance with a housefire would surely call a lesser elemental that could handle such matters easily, like a water sprite or even an air sprite, while an entire burning town would, if successful, call a leviathan or some other powerful creature. As long as it was matched with the task and Sorey's abilities. He decided not to lie, and to request a friend; there was no way to call anyone else with such a specific request.

Second, the terms. He cycled through traditional contracts, and really none of them worked for what he needed, but he spoke them anyway. Mikleo could break them since they had each others' Names.

Third, the Name. One ought to be pushed forward in his mind, but instead he felt more than he could count, spinning and fighting through his mind. He didn't find Mikleo's, or couldn't. Maybe because there were so many? But there shouldn't be, since his request had been so specific!

He forced himself to say Mikleo's Name instead, and the ones in his head swelled as if angry that he'd ignored them, pressure splitting against his skull and burning in his chest.

Water bubbled and fizzed all around his perch, growing violent and impatient with him. It wasn't Mikleo. Even when angry, Mikleo would be sulking more than aggressive, he'd never act like that! Steam rose from the water too, and Sorey hugged his knees, knowing he was stuck in place until his failed summoning spell burned off. It hurt, though. His skin grew clammy from the steam but also from a sudden fever he never could've predicted, and he curled up into a ball and tried his best to stay lucid.

This definitely wasn't Mikleo's doing, that's all he really knew about what happened. But he did finally begin to really grasp why he'd been told to wait.

 

* * *

  


Zenrus never expected to see a boiling puddle. Children could be so odd when angered.

He leaned down and poured out his canteen, offering it as a temporary vessel to the steaming angry little pool. "Come on now," he insisted, "Let's go home."

The water wasn't actually hot, just seething in anger. Mikleo wouldn't harm him or anyone else, in fact he couldn't inside the old barrier. Instead, he sullenly, but willingly, oozed his way into the canteen.

"You know it's for the best," Zenrus told him. He knew his words wouldn't be much comfort, but the smallest bit would still count. He heard more bubbling in the canteen and he laughed gently, "He'll refine his skills and come back for you. Then you'll be whole in a way you haven't been since birth."

Zenrus left the canteen open when he arrived home, but Mikleo couldn't form his body anymore. They both knew that the only way to give him a shape again was to send him off with Sorey, or to summon him correctly.

Inside the barrier, though, he was trapped. Nobody, not even Sorey would be able to summon him so long as he was stuck there. He'd felt a strong pull that he recognized, and he'd desperately reached for it, trying every way he knew to offer his Name into Sorey's heart, to protect him from the spirits that were sure to latch on like vultures on carrion. It was useless.

  



	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorey makes some friends along the way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for being so lazy.

The first time Sorey ever saw a Summoner was the very same day he'd first seen a princess, and knights, and all sorts of things really. He'd arrived early in the morning to Ladylake, only to find that there had been a major disaster right inside the walls. A bridge had fallen to a particularly violent high tide in the night, and people were trapped and scared, and of course he leapt to action to help. He may not have been ready for summoning, but he could do _something_.

Of course, that was when he saw two tall, sturdy-looking men in classic Summoner's garb, just like he'd seen in his books. They wore three identical seals each on the back, two elements and the crest of Rolance, which everyone from the school in Rolance had to wear. Sorey's eyes sparkled as the two of them bowed their heads in concentration. He was positively enraptured as dust swirled about the ground and their capes fluttered. He couldn't wait to wear one, himself; they were really stylish in his opinion, the heavy fabric squared off and cut into fringe at the ends, the tiny beaded patterns that glowed as spells were cast. Only the orange ones glowed at the time, so Sorey could tell right away they were looking for an earth elemental.

A spire shot out of the ground between the men and the crowd collectively jumped back, startled. The large clump of earth opened like an umbrella and shook off the stones, and… It _was_ an umbrella? A young girl with skin like smooth, shiny sand emerged, and exchanged quiet words with the two summoners. She was a little short, and had vines and flowers creeping up her legs and over her dress, all the way into her hair.

How would Mikleo look, once he was properly summoned? Sorey shook the thought from his head. He should have known better by now, he can't tempt himself (and yet he imagines it anyway, Mikleo being solid and looking almost human, maybe his skin would shine like his watery body had...).

The girl glanced his way. He wondered what she really was. Just an earth sprite? The men looked powerful though, and surely with their combined strength they could've summoned something much bigger.

Her eyes scrutinized him and he gulped. She didn't make any move to interact with him, but instead followed her orders per the contract, aiming her umbrella and heaving the collapsed stone from the water by magic, carefully allowing the trapped victims to climb their way to safety before repairing the bridge entirely. Sorey watched the whole time, and it all seemed to pass by so quickly.

"Wonderful work!" A girl who couldn't have been far beyond Sorey's age spoke up with authority, "I'm so thrilled you two were passing through. Please, allow us to compensate you for your efforts."

"I couldn't ask for payment, Miss!" One man insisted, while the other thumped his shoulder.

"Perhaps a meal and a place to stay for the night. We still have a long trip ahead," the other corrected, "I wouldn't say no to supplies, either."

"Of course! I'm happy to offer all of that! You've saved a great many people today," The girl had a pretty smile and fine clothes. One of the men addressed her as a princess, and Sorey was dazzled all over again as she guided the two summoners away.

"Hey. You."

Something jabbed his side.

"It's rude to ignore people." The earth elemental girl, she was frowning at him. "Who are you?"

"Huh?" He sputtered, "I'm Sorey."

"Not that, stupid," she shook her head, sand falling from hair bunched at the side of her head with flowering vines instead of a hair tie. " _What_ are you? Why are you messing with my powers?"

"I-- I didn't do anything!"

"You did. It was definitely you. And now I haven't even dispelled, look. I'm still here. And it's because of something you're doing." She tapped her umbrella point into the ground impatiently, "So cut it out."

Sorey hadn't thought he was doing anything, and he was about to deny it more enthusiastically, but she continued.

"I had no interest in saving those humans, you know. It wasn't in my contract, and I would've relished the opportunity to rub that little screw-up in the faces of those useless oafs. And now, their bond to me is broken off and somehow I'm here, tethered to you instead."

Sorey kept staring with a dumbfounded expression.

"Dismiss me, will you? I have more important things to do now rather than follow around some kid."

"R-right," he agreed, fumbling a little on the proper dismissal. The sand of her body began shifting and falling, caught on a calm breeze.

"Good," She said as she dissolved, "You'll be a decent Summoner, if you learn some restraint. Maybe."

With that, she'd crumbled away. He got a good look around finally, to find that people were staring. He did his best to laugh it off.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Perhaps Gramps hadn't really given him enough money. Food wasn't so expensive, he supposed, but there was a celebration going on in town and the inn was milking that for all it was worth, as he overheard several patrons complain. He didn't want to spend so much of his money on one night's rest in Ladylake when he still had such a long trip ahead.

He had enough supplies to catch his own food, but he ate one proper meal - he promised Gramps he'd do that whenever he reached a town. A local specialty called sweetfish, which was actually just grilled and salted fish, not sweet at all. But it was good, and he thought it'd be neat to bring Mikleo back to try it someday. They never had such fresh fish before.

Once he'd managed to escape the crowds a bit to watch the festivities, he had a good chance to look around. Everything was so massive in the city, and everything was made of the same stone. He knew that, were Mikleo there, they would've argued for hours, maybe even days, about how the stone was quarried. Odd as it was, he tried to fill in Mikleo's side of the debate in his head, but it wasn't the same.

There was probably some cultural meaning to the rainbow array of papercraft everywhere, and the phoenix designs painted on banners, but even when he tried to ask people, they just explained that it was tradition, shooing him away telling him to play with the other children.

He kept an eye out for those two summoners. He wanted to ask what that girl was, and why she picked on him like that. And he really wanted to ask them what it was like in Rolance, at the summoner's school. There were brief descriptions in one or two books, but they both were written as though it were an unreachable place, like nobody had really been inside. But that was silly, because those two clearly had attended, and passed.

It was a shame he arrived on the last day of the festival, but maybe that was for the best, so he couldn't be distracted and stay longer than he ought to. A lot of the stalls were so tempting, but he just played the part of observer and moved to the next instead of being drawn in by sales pitches. Mikleo had warned him well.

He was growing in familiarity with the gnawing feeling in his gut every time he thought of his friend, and he'd decided it was definitely guilt. But it wouldn't matter! He'd make it right eventually.

The crowds started to thin out by sunset after a huge spectacle in which the princess gave a rousing speech (and a tall woman behind her glowered down at the crowd as if rebuking them when they didn't applaud), and instead of people in celebration, the streets were being picked clean by the poor and the birds. Charitable vendors began giving away unsold foods and cheaper clothes, which Sorey thought was really cool. A handful of dirty children even younger than he was ran through the street carrying more festival merchandise than even the people who'd been shopping before.

"Here," a young girl held out a thin jacket and a small snackbox for Sorey and he held his hands up as if to reject them. "Go ahead! Take it! It's a pain to pack all this stuff back up, and the food won't keep until we get back to our warehouse."

"Hard to argue with that logic…" Sorey gave a sheepish laugh and accepted her offering as he sized her up. She was about his age, a bit shorter maybe, with wide blue eyes and auburn hair lying flat, silky and thin, at the sides of her face. Her smile looked a little disingenuous, but no worse than any of the merchants he'd seen throughout the day.

"Right? Brad's been giving away a heap of stuff after festivals forever. I used to think it was wasteful, but last year all the boxes coming back were so heavy!" She complained, but she was also grinning. "So, I can tell you're not a hungry orphan. Where are you from?"

"Oh, I'm from Elysia," he answered, beaming brightly. She shuddered.

"Wow, that creepy place in the mountains?"

"It's not creepy! It's like a paradise!" Sorey tried his best not to be deeply offended, and failed.

"Oh sure, on the surface it's really pretty, but it's totally haunted. I always avoid going there now." She looked upward, a little thoughtfully, "Are you here alone?"

Haunted, that was a new one. Did that mean that this girl had sensed spirits too? Sorey was excited to keep talking about that, but she changed the subject too swiftly for him and he was carried along, "Yeah! I'm traveling to Rolance so I can be a Summoner!"

"Whoa, cool!" Her demeanor changed, bright sparkling eyes over a wide grin, "Are you already enrolled? Were you with those guys before?" When he shook his head, she continued, "That's a really neat coincidence, then. I've only seen like, three summoners in my whole life." She reached out her hand, her fingers calloused and splayed out, "I'm Rose. We're heading in the same direction right now, so I'll ask the guys if you can come with us!"

"W-wow, really?! That'd be great!" He took her hand to shake it and probably held too long, and she gave him an odd look in response.

"Your name?"

"Oh! Sorey. Sorry, I forgot." Everyone knew everyone's name in Elysia, so of course introductions were a new experience. She seemed pleased enough, making only one jab about what he'd forgotten.

"Okay, c'mon then, Sorey. I'm gonna put you to work!"

"Huh?"

"You didn't think the ride would be free, did you?" She made a gesture he didn't recognize with her fingers and stepped behind him to push him along. Both Gramps and Mikleo had always warned him about strangers, and while he didn't really think Rose was going to hurt him or anything, she was definitely a stranger. One of the strangest.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Their first stop was a place called Marlind, which was somewhere Sorey definitely wanted to explore, but he had absolutely no time between all the chores Rose kept giving him. Honestly, he would've run away by that point if not for the fact that she was working hard right alongside him. He had no idea that a group of traveling merchants had it so rough! He couldn't recall them ever having so much trouble when they visited Elysia, but then, they never brought so many wares there. It was a much smaller place.

Somehow, even though she was shorter than him, she carried twice the load. "Hey, you can take a break now if you want," she said, "We're leaving tonight and everything's going smoothly. Go see that museum you kept whining about."

"Eh? Will you come?" Sorey asked brightly, but sank as she shook her head. It wouldn't be as fun alone.

"That kinda stuff's lost on me anyway," she shrugged, causing a box to start to slip from her grasp so she had to adjust it. "Maybe you can wait until your friend can come, if you don't want to go alone. It's not going anywhere."

"That's a good idea," Sorey agreed, but it sat rather bitterly in his mind since he couldn't know when he'd have Mikleo at his side again. So instead, he picked up another wooden crate, he could tell it was full of dried herbs because as the wood creaked and let air pass through it smelled like Medea's garden.

"Hey," Rose paused, placing her hand on it to get him to put it down, "I have a good idea. Wanna see something cool?"

"Always!" He very nearly dropped it instead of setting it down, and Rose stacked her own on top of it, grabbing Sorey's wrist to drag him back to one of their caravans.

There wasn't a ladder on this one, so she climbed up the spokes of the wheel to get into it and offered her hand to him. He wondered if they were really allowed to be here, but Rose was insistent and pulled him in after her. Her target was a nondescript crate with the Sparrowfeathers' seal only stamped on a piece of planking that she ripped right off. He should've been used to her strength by that point, but it always caught him by surprise. A few nails clattered to the floor.

Even more impressive were the contents of that crate. "Iris gems…" Sorey said with awe. He'd never seen them for real!

"Yep! Some bandits had them, so we took them away to find the real owners, but we're not having any luck," Rose seemed to know every little thing that happened in the Sparrowfeathers' business dealings. She was just an impressive person, all-around. "I don't know all that much about how they work, though. Do you?"

"Yeah!" The stones were small ones, no holes drilled into them yet. They glowed in perfect rainbow colors when he held one in his hand, and he grinned at it, "They're still untethered. Do you think that means they were supposed to go to the institute?"

"I have no idea what 'untethered' means," Rose said with a sour look, shrugging.

"It means they're unused, basically. Once they have a spirit tethered to them, they don't glow in rainbows like this. Only in one solid color."

"...They're glowing?"

"You can't tell? Here, hold it!" He thrust the small stone into her hand and waited for a reaction. It took a few seconds of her squinting before she yelped and dropped it back in the box.

"What the-- That's really freaky!"

"They're pretty, right?"

"Pretty?!" She sputtered, glancing between Sorey and the gems a few times. He waited for a response though, and her eyes reflected the glow more and more as the seconds passed between them. "Yeah," she eventually agreed, a little soft, "They are."

Though he'd never been allowed to handle one before, he showed her how to drill holes in them, a technique he remembered flawlessly from his research, and she threaded two into her hair decoratively. Sorey took one as well, threading feathers onto it and wearing it around his wrist. The fact that they were stolen good must've slipped their minds.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The Glaivend checkpoint was the first place Sorey felt intimidated by nature itself. Deep canyons all around, paths were so steep and narrow that every little bump the caravans passed over caused him to grip anxiously at his colorful new jacket Rose had given him after the festival. The colors were too wild and he didn't think much of them at first, but they'd started to wash out and the dyes blended hideously because he'd apparently used the wrong soap. He thought it looked more interesting that way. The phoenix emblem was still outlined in black even if the fiery colors had melted into the rest.

The entire basin was so dry it was stifling. It felt like what a desert must feel like, as far as Sorey could tell, and it made Mikleo's absence harder to stomach. He hadn't been so thirsty in years.

"How long until we reach the other side of this canyon?" He asked Rose, who was busying herself with securing leather straps around the crates to make sure they didn't shuffle around too much.

"Um, well, it's been two hours, so…" She feigned a thoughtful expression, "two days. Get used to it."

"What?" Sorey whined, and she stuck her tongue out at him. They went over a bump and she suddenly wailed that she'd bitten it; Sorey resisted the urge to stick his out at her just in case he suffered the same fate.

"So, your friend is a summoned spirit, right?" Rose suddenly changed the subject, "Did you summon him illegally or something?"

"No way!" He frowned. He'd never break the law like that! "I mean, maybe? He's just always been around, as long as I can remember. But he's a spirit."

"Well, someone must have summoned him, right? I don't get it."

"I think Elysia is just a place where spirits can sort of… reach out to us. Mikleo said it had something to do with me, though." He used to say it in a way that sounded like a joke, like he was teasing Sorey for it. Ever since that experience with the summoned earth elemental, he started to wonder if maybe it was the truth.

Rose tugged at the straps until they looked taut enough to snap, then she shuddered, "That's so creepy."

"It's not!" Sorey complained, "Mikleo's nice and super smart and talented, and he has healing powers!"

Once sure she'd tied down the crates enough, Rose plopped down next to a stack and licked the inside of her shirt, checking for blood. She seemed satisfied, so maybe she hadn't bitten herself all that hard. "Why'd you leave him there, then?"

Sorey faltered, "Because he's safer there. Gramps said it's safer for him in Elysia."

"Why?"

"I dunno."

"Eh… I thought you knew everything."

Sorey used to think he knew everything, too. He fell silent, fiddling with the iris gem at his wrist. He'd started doubting Gramps if only because it made him feel like Mikleo could've been right. He would've liked it if Mikleo had been right in this case. As much as he liked winning, any excuse to bring his friend along would have been welcomed.

Someday, that would be the iris gem that Mikleo would be tethered to. All summoned spirits that are kept need one, where they're meant to reside, dormant until needed again. He'd never make Mikleo stay inside a bead; he wasn't sure, but it seemed almost insulting, and Mikleo was meant to be at his side. Just because they would need the gem on his wrist as a catalyst, that didn't mean it had to play any larger role than that.

Some of the boxes strained against their own tethers and he frowned at them. "I think those are too tight." He had to admit he was no expert at this, but he was uncomfortable enough to speak up.

"Didn't we just establish that you're not as much of a know-it-all as you think you are?" Rose grumbled, but she was probably joking, since she moved to check on them and started adjusting one of them.

Sorey tried to help her this time, holding the crates as she worked on the fastenings and the caravan kept lurching. He only had two hands though, and some of the ones stacked a little higher slipped out of place, cords snapping and lashing Sorey across the ear. He jumped back reflexively, but then immediately thought better of it and tried to help Rose again, only to find a Sylph levitating the boxes over her.

How long had he been here? He was huge, but his body was barely visible, pure wind, like Mikleo's water body. He was trying to materialize properly in the same way, but his connection to this world wasn't as strong as Sorey's bond with Mikleo, so it wasn't working.

At first Sorey panicked, thought the Sylph would drop it, but his worries were blown away as the wind picked up, a little stifling in such an enclosed space, and the box settled where it had fallen from. Rose still panicked, her knees drawn into her chest and covering her ears.

"Rose?" He asked, moving to secure the box again by climbing. The Sylph helped, wind guiding things into place and waiting for Sorey to fasten them. His ear was still ringing.

"Not again…." She murmured to herself, squeezing her eyes shut and wailing.

"Rose!?" Once finished and sure it wouldn't fall on her again, he hopped down, "Hey, what's going on?"

"She's scared of me," the wind whispered, sound carried to the ear that could hear it. He rubbed it. That tickled!

"Scared of… Oh," Sorey looked at the Sylph and back to Rose, "Rose, it's okay, he's not hurting you."

Rose stumbled through a series of attempts at words, but was too shaken to string them together, so Sorey kept trying to reassure her, sitting at her side and patting her shoulder.

"He's a --You're a Sylph, right? What's your name?" Sorey tried to keep a calm tone. The wind spoke again and he beamed in the direction he'd last seen the outline of the Sylph, "His name is Dezel. I think he's been around a while."

Rose's head snapped up angrily, "Then tell him to go away!"

Sorey was about to try and say something else, but the wind all but vanished.

"I don't want him here," Rose mumbled, hiding her face again and muffling her words, "I never did."

They barely spoke for the next few hours, and Sorey figured it would be wisest to not bring up what happened again for a while. He'd just wait until she felt safer.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The markets in Lastonbell were amazing! Sand-colored buildings had long red canvas awnings stretched across the road, shading the market stalls that lined the street. The belltower was so high up, and maybe someday he would bring Mikleo back to find out how all the mechanisms worked, but for now he studied the markets because he'd been stuck there helping Rose distribute goods for hours.

Sorey didn't feel bad buying a few things, since helping out with the Sparrowfeathers had preserved a great deal of his funds for the trip. He found an armful of books he wanted and at least three blank journals, and he bought a pack to carry them all in since his old one wasn't big enough for all that. Rose, who came with him, reassured him that he still had plenty for the travel fees from that point on. She bought a couple things, too, a scarf and a hair clip; they were girly and had flowers on them, and Sorey guessed that she wasn't keeping them for herself.

Dezel hadn't attempted to form himself again, but Sorey could still pick up on his presence now and then, now that he knew what to look for. It was unsettling to say the least, since he wanted to speak to him but couldn't when Rose was around, so he wouldn't upset her. He couldn't really understand her fear though. It'd be like being afraid of Mikleo, just impossible.

"So, since we're done after this, wanna be pen-pals?" Rose suddenly offered, handing him a pack of stationary.

He accepted happily, but stared at it for a few seconds before he figured it out. "Oh! We can write letters to each other!"

"...Yeah, that's typically what pen-pals do," She said with amusement, "I was getting ready to send something to another friend of mine. There are couriers in Pendrago that'll take anything for a fee. You can address them to me at our Lastonbell warehouse, and your letters can get forwarded if I'm away! It's pretty cool, huh?"

"Yeah!" Sorey agreed, looking over the stationary. It had red flowers on all the corners and lines filling most of the pages. "Who else do you write to?"

"Ah… Why, jealous?" Rose elbowed his ribs a little hard.

"Curious," he corrected, "You never talked about any other friends!"

"Well, I've got too many to keep track of," She beams proudly. "But it'll be really great to hear from you while you're studying. And you can send some letters to your family back home, though it'll take awhile to get to Elysia… Well, your buddy will be happy to hear when you make it safely, I'm sure."

"Yeah… I guess I should send something to him first, huh…?" He looked downward almost guiltily, but then smiled up at Rose again, "But Rose, you should try talking to Dezel sometime."

Her skin grew pale, "What? Why?!"

Sorey grabbed her hand and tugged her away from the crowds, somewhere Dezel wouldn't scare anyone. "If he's always around, there's got to be a reason, right? So let's ask him and find out!"

As they reached a wide alleyway, shielded by one merchant's crates, Rose snatched her hand away, "But I don't _want_ him around! It's creepy!"

"He did protect you before," Sorey tried. He knew Dezel shouldn't be hanging around someone who didn't want him there, but it had been impressive when he'd casted spells like Mikleo used to, and he'd done it to help, not hurt. And if Dezel was safe outside of the barrier, then that meant that maybe Mikleo was right after all, and even if it'd hurt to know he'd denied his friend, it was something he needed to know.

"I never asked him to!"

"Don't you wonder why he did it?" Sorey asked, and she flinched. He wasn't the best at social cues, but he felt like he'd hit the mark. "Maybe he has a reason."

She hesitated, but he felt he really had won. She reached into her hair and twisted her gem around quietly for nearly a full minute before answering, "Do we have to summon him to ask?"

"I don't think so. Just call for him?"

"Don't we like… need a special name for that?"

"If it's like Mikleo, we don't," Sorey pointed out, then looked upwards, "Hey, Dezel? We wanna talk to you. Can you… uh. Show up?"

Rose mumbled something like 'real great summoning spell' under her breath, defeated, but then shuddered when wind picked up and dust swarmed at the feet of some invisible person.

"There you are! Can we ask you some things?"

"No." Dezel's answer was curt, but Sorey was undeterred.

"Why are you following Rose?" Rose shook after he asked. She hadn't looked Dezel's way even once.

"I need to be on this side."

"What for?"

"I'm not telling you."

Sorey pouted. He was getting nowhere! Rose huddled at his side anxiously and trembled, but glanced Dezel's way for the first time.

"W-would you tell me?" The timid way she was behaving didn't suit her at all, at least Sorey thought so, but it seemed to make the winds soften, so he grinned at her success.

"Revenge." Rose whimpered pitifully and covered her ears again, and Dezel hurried to correct her assumption. "Not on you."

Sorey stared at Rose, the tight little breaths she kept drawing too quickly, the wetness under her eyes. "On who then?" She asked eventually, fearful.

"Don't have a name." He spoke softer to her than he did to Sorey. His voice was gruff and rumbling, like the wind was growling right against their skin. "Just a voice."

"Why me…" Rose struggled to ask.

Dezel's winds softened more, "Aptitude. You, this kid--" though he wasn't very easy to see, he'd clearly gestured toward Sorey-- "and Brad, your leader." Rose looked up, then her eyes met Sorey's, puzzled. "Natural born summoners."

 

 

* * *

 

 

Mikleo didn't have skin, not yet. The way he wormed his way into this world, he could only be water. Until summoned, it was the best he could manage, but it had always been enough. He'd created a membrane around his body and shaped himself properly down to the tiniest of details, every strand of hair. Sorey saw him as he was meant to, could touch him and everything. It was all thanks to Sorey that he could do such a thing.

Since Sorey left, all he could do was either return to his world, or slumber in a pretty glass bottle on a shelf at home. His shape was lost, his energy robbed from him. He could still feel where Sorey was, moving farther away by the day, but he couldn't follow.

He thought once or twice about releasing his hold on Sorey to escape the barrier, then latching back onto his friend, but that would leave openings for too many other spirits, possibly with malicious intent. He couldn't expose Sorey to that. He felt as though there was already some sort of vile creature too close to him, for weeks now, vicious energies floating about on the wind. The opening would be small, hopefully, but all that was just a theory he'd been working on, left alone with only his thoughts too long. He was still trying to figure out how the barrier worked, exactly, and how he might circumvent its restraints.

Sorey wasn't in danger though. He wasn't sure how he knew that, but he knew.

The first letter arrived, and Zenrus had to read it to him. Sorey must not have realized that Mikleo couldn't materialize to read it himself.

"He made it safely to Rolance," Zenrus read hoarsely. Mikleo pressed against his glass cage curiously, not sure what he wanted to hear, but maybe an apology would be nice. No such luck. "He says he met a girl, and she has talent for summoning too. He's trying to convince her to join him in the school…"

Mikleo railed against the glass and the bottle wobbled.

"Calm down," Zenrus raised his bushy white eyebrows and grinned at him, "You know better than to get jealous of something like that."

He didn't though; Sorey was trying to take someone else with him, but left Mikleo behind? It was beyond frustrating. Sorey was always frustrating, but especially in this matter. This was the matter that tore them apart, after all.

"He'll send more letters once he starts classes," Zenrus finished. "That's all there is for now. Must be too excited to get to the school. Don't worry about him, Mikleo."

Steam was rising from the bottle, and Zenrus threatened him with a cork.

It wasn't fair to be stuck sitting on a shelf while Sorey was having an adventure. More importantly, he feared what would happen if Sorey truly needed him, or worse, if he _didn't_.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorey begins his studies. Makes another friend and also a mess.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M STILL WRITING THIS I SWEAR, SEE..........
> 
> I feel like I forgot something important though. Oh well.

 

 

 

"You, boy!" The instructor called out to him, "Keep following me. Don't tarry."

Sorey couldn't rightly help his distraction; this place was huge and old, and Mikleo would have been so happy to come with him! Guilt gnawed at his stomach, the same way it had been since the day Mikleo couldn't leave Elysia and Sorey left him behind.

 _No, that's not it… I forbade him from joining me_. Sorey had to remember his choices and be responsible for them. Those were Mikleo's parting words to him before that ethereal form melted like water, soaking into the earth. They'd reached the edge of the Elysian barrier, as Gramps called it, and Mikleo had tried to follow him out, but Sorey stopped him. He couldn't even remember what he'd said exactly, just that it came out wrong and Mikleo looked hurt.

They'd never hurt each other before. It didn't feel good at all.

"Your meals will be served at precisely five-thirty in the morning. Then you begin meditation classes until lunch, and after that, you'll be in classes for language," The tall woman looked back with doubt, "Based on your, ah, _limited_ upbringing, we'll begin with the basics."

"I already know the Ancient Language, ma'am," He smiled up at her.

"I highly doubt you can speak it with enough fluency to get very far."

" _I've gotten a lot of practice with my friend back in Elysia_ ," he said in the ancient tongue, flawlessly in his opinion.

She tilted her head, clearly impressed. "Very well," she said sharply, marking something down on her notes, "I can let the headmaster know you wish to test out of the beginner's classes. Keep following me."

Her robes fluttered as she turned around, gesturing down various hallways that seemed completely empty and echoed with their footsteps. She indicated where meals were served, where the library was (he almost squealed in delight at the size of it! He wanted to bring Mikleo here as soon as possible! He only needed to properly summon him!) and where the stairs to the testing chambers were. She showed him where the elites would gather and told him he was never to go there unsupervised, and then to where the headmaster's quarters were, which she called 'off-limits, barring specific emergencies, or unless he's called there'. It was a lot for a thirteen-year-old boy to take in.

He committed it all to his memory and drew up a map once she took him to the dorms. He'd apparently be sharing. Part of him dreaded it; the idea of sharing a space with anyone but Mikleo worried him. Rose was one thing, it was very temporary, but he'd be here for years. He couldn't practice late at night while sharing with a stranger, He couldn't secretly attempt summoning his friend, like he'd sworn he'd do.

Mikleo would just have to wait. It could be okay. After all, Mikleo had been pretty angry at him, maybe some extra time would make it easier to talk things out. He had to stay optimistic. He'd left Elysia with Mikleo's Name carved into his heart and someday he'd master the ability to call it out, and they could go anywhere together.

He was the first student to arrive for the year. According to the instructor, most of them stayed on holiday until the season changed, so the place would be empty for two more weeks. After that, she added that the population would surely thin out to a mere twenty students before the testing period started. From nearly four hundred down to twenty, and not all of them would even pass. Being a Summoner would require hard work, and maybe not many people could make it…

Sorey was confident though; Mikleo was uniquely qualified to teach him things when they were little and everything he knew was verified by Gramps, who was old enough to know everything. So he'd get through the classes, summon his best friend back to his side, and they could travel around like they wanted and see the world. And help people. Sorey really wanted to help people.

His maps gained detail over the course of his first two weeks in the empty halls. He marked the different sections of the library in neat, tiny handwriting Mikleo would have been proud of and made two more copies as if practicing his lettering. One was sealed in his stationary to mail back home. Mikleo would be interested to see the inside of this place. He'd show him around, someday.

  


* * *

  


 

He met his roommate only hours before the first classes began. Sorey was awestruck the moment he saw him.

"You're one of the Summoners I saw in Ladylake!" He exclaimed, thrilled, "Are you really a student?"

"Not anymore," the man beamed proudly at him, "But I'm still staying in the dorm rooms. Don't worry, once the year starts, the rooms start emptying quickly. I'll move into my brother's room once there's space."

"You're not worried I'll leave?"

"I have faith in people," he announced, his voice deep and assured. He held out his hand, and Sorey took it. "My name is Sergei Strelka."

"I'm Sorey," he said, confident that his introduction skills had vastly improved from the time he met Rose. His cheeks warmed just a little though. Having no last name was the one thing that gave him away as an orphan. "What happened to that girl you summoned?"

"The Giant?" Sorey gaped at that (she was so tiny! Was she truly a giantess? Maybe a child-sized giant, but even then…), but Sergei ignored him and continued, "I'm not sure. She vanished and we haven't been able to bring her back. I'm not sure how much you know about this, but once a spirit is summoned it's under your contract until you dismiss it. You'll see. I came back early because she seemed to have broken the contract, and I wanted to study how and why."

Sorey knew better than to speak. Confessing that he'd dismissed her - which he shouldn't have been able to do - would just anger Sergei, and even trying to interrupt and say he knew all the things he was explaining seemed rude. Instead, he changed the topic. They spoke about the Princess of Hyland until Sorey had to leave for his first lessons, Sergei's cheeks pink.

  


* * *

 

 

 

Sorey managed to test out of several classes, which left him with more free time than he knew what to do with at first. He tried attending the classes anyway, but he was shooed out once for being disruptive. After a few days of listlessness, he began whiling away the hours in the library. There was a peacefulness to it; long tables were between each row of bookcases, giving a feeling of privacy, and the stone floors were covered in messy layers of rugs thrown around, some well worn but still functional for dampening sounds. He missed sound though. Reading wasn't the same without discussing and arguing with Mikleo.

Sconces were filled with bundles of dried rosemary and lavender instead of candles, and lights were instead in small glowing orbs set about the tables and shelves, some floating near the ceiling and sprinkling light down. Sorey dared to touch one, once, and it felt like glass, with something cold inside. A tiny, white sprite inside of it stirred, and it popped open its bubble to scold him. In that tiny voice though, it sounded more comical than anything, and he apologized to it before it bubbled up again, satisfied. Even the lights were summoned beings. This place was fantastic.

He didn't do so well in lessons requiring any meditation from him, since he had far too much energy for it and allowed his mind to wander too much. Incense burned and the light was minimal, but that only made him sleepy.

Sure enough, the students thinned out quickly. Sergei's belongings were gone one day and Sorey immediately got to work drawing helpful magic patterns on the floor in chalk underneath the rug. While unnecessary, they were meaningful; magic circles were the ancient way of summoning, before tethering was possible. With the aid of a circle, maybe he could successfully conjure Mikleo up after all… At least, that was his thought. Instead, he found himself sprawled on the floor with a fever again, waiting hours to cool down properly.

Maybe… Maybe Mikleo just didn't want to be summoned? It sounded foolish to him. They belonged together, so surely Mikleo would come to him if he could. Something must be wrong. His chest hurt terribly as he thought about it more, wishing for any sort of way to tell if Mikleo was okay.

His wish came a day later in the form of well-wishes from Gramps. He mentioned Mikleo, but not much, so nothing important must've happened. He tried to bury his worries and get back to his studies. Mikleo would be waiting for him to get strong enough to summon him.

  


* * *

 

 

 

"Your Names, as Summoners, must be a promise you keep. They're as much a contract as the ones you bind your spirits to," An elderly teacher explained, pacing the room between desks. There were only nine students in the class, all older than Sorey by at least four years. He did his best not to be intimidated. "They're not to be shared with anyone. You keep it in your heart and it is bound to you for life once it's chosen. Attempting to change it will break all contracts and tethers to you, and it won't even work. I should know," he interrupted herself to dramatically reveal her arm, covered in burns, "I attempted to change my own when I knew I'd failed to keep true to my own Name, _Relentless Huntress_. Now, I can no longer summon any spirits, and the fire elemental I conjured disfigured me."

Sorey reflected on his own Name. Could he even keep such a promise? Mikleo had to know all of this when he suggested it… That spoke volumes of his faith in Sorey. That alone made him feel almost proud of his embarrassing Name. It wasn't as cool-sounding as Relentless Huntress, but it carried a lot more meaning than he thought, and… Well, he _would_ aim for that title. He'd find what was missing and become a Shepherd.

"Have any of you found your names, yet?"

Sorey found he was the only one to raise his hand. His teacher slammed her palm on his desk, and his chair made a loud noise when he jumped, pushing it back a few inches.

"Well! Never speak it. I don't know why you've gotten so ahead of yourself, but if you know it, it's only for you!" She gave a crooked smile to the rest of the class, and was about to say something, but Sorey spoke in a small, guilty voice.

"My friend back home knows it, though…"

Her eyes, blue-softened with her age, looked his way again.

"He helped me find it."

"Do you trust this friend of yours?" She asked bitterly. She was very displeased with him, and it made him shiver.

"Of course! I've known him since I was a baby, we've always been really close--"

"Then I'm sure he'll tell you if he told anyone. Swear him to secrecy!"

"Oh…" Sorey looked relieved, "That's not a problem then… Not many people can even see him, just me and Gramps--"

"Spirit," she spat, "I should have you expelled for such carelessness, boy. In fact, I just might!" Her scarred hand grabbed his collar and yanked, hard, bringing him to his feet and pulling him out the door. He asked where she was taking him and she told him to stay quiet, not letting go of his clothes until she'd brought him to the staircase leading to the headmaster's chambers. "You're still in trouble," she reminded him, "but I can't walk these stairs unassisted. My bones ache." That's when she switched from gripping his clothes to gripping his arm, putting pressure on it with each slow step she took up the spiraling stone staircase.

Sorey did his best to be helpful, worried she might fall a couple times. His care did nothing to soften her demeanor.

She didn't let him inside, going in ahead of him to explain everything. Her voice was loud, but he didn't hear words, just muffled voices through the heavy wooden door. After a few minutes, a tall, decorated man opened the door for him and ushered him in. Even the chambers felt important, walls lined with heavy books and tall paintings, ceiling decorated with a large chandelier full of those light orb sprites, boxes built into the wall like cubbies full of scrolls, tapestries over doors... The black capes hanging from the man's shoulders made it clear he was the headmaster, the leader of all Summoners. Sorey stared after him, slack-jawed.

"So," he said, his voice tired, "A spirit knows your Name already?"

Sorey nodded, "He helped me find it. He's my friend, he won't--"

"Did you summon him?" Sorey shook his head and the headmaster's shoulders relaxed, just slightly. "Spirits are deceitful creatures. You could be destroyed by such carelessness. You know this, correct?" Sorey didn't answer, just felt his chest throbbing at the thought of Mikleo deceiving him. It wasn't possible, but he knew he wouldn't win if he argued. The headmaster swiftly moved to sit behind his desk, tapping a large iris gem on it as though waking it. Deep purple colors poured out and his teacher cowered back, the headmaster didn't flinch and Sorey thought that meant he shouldn't either.

It looked like black flames and purple smoke, but assembled itself into a petite woman's form, alabaster skin and little covering it. Dark hair tied on each side of her head in brightly colored bands were the brightest color about her, everything else in darks and solid white.

"Symonne," the headmaster acknowledged her calmly, "Judge his worth for me."

Her steps were light, like dancing, and she leaned in to look at him, cracking a wide grin within seconds, "Why… He's easily your match in potential, Master. Surely you didn't need me to tell you that?" She said in a mocking tone, her head tilted back at him unnaturally instead of turning to face him.

Sorey looked back at the headmaster and noticed a slight change in his expression. Anger, perhaps.

"I believe I have a solution. Can you let me… Take care of it?" She grinned even wider, straightening back up and looking Sorey in the eye. Only her mouth smiled. Sorey couldn't tell what she was. Some form of demon?

The headmaster was silent for almost a full minute before agreeing, and she instantly vanished into her diminishing purple magic. The teacher argued and he dismissed her, then turned to Sorey. "You may stay in this school. You may become a Summoner, if you pass. But you will never share your Name again. You'll return to me and receive lessons from me directly, starting tomorrow. Understood?"

Sorey awkwardly nodded. He was then dismissed as well, and realized that he'd had a knot in his stomach the whole time. What was the demon girl planning to do? He had to send word to Mikleo and Gramps, swiftly, maybe plead with Rose to look into it for him, anything he could think of to make sure he was wrong for assuming the worst. He was trembling with fear, and then he yelped as his teacher, who'd been waiting outside the door, took his arm again.

"Calm down, boy!" she rebuked him, "I still can't walk these steps, up or down."

 

* * *

  


 

 

Zenrus knew when something inhuman entered his barrier. It wouldn't have been able to unless it had tremendous power. The whole point of the barrier was to keep Sorey safe from spirits; he'd conjured it the very moment he saw a little water sprite latch on when he was an infant and knew it could have been far worse. The boy was too unguarded, he was bound to attract all sorts of beings, and between Zenrus and Mikleo, he was well protected even inside the barrier.

Though Sorey was no longer inside of it, it couldn't just be dispelled. It was bound to Zenrus and would only end with his life. His days as a Summoner had ended long ago, but he could still use his meager powers to help the boys grow up safe, as he saw it.

And yet, he saw danger in this being that approached the village. He felt the chill of death on its presence and he couldn't push back against it.

"Mikleo," he said quietly that day, lifting the bottle up and cradling it gently in his hands. "You need to leave. This doesn't bode well."

The bottle bubbled but couldn't answer, nor could Zenrus decode bubbles.

The knock came at the door and he frowned. Mikleo wasn't leaving. "You'll forgive me for this, someday," he said, tipping the bottle to his lips and drinking it down swiftly. The angry water fought against stomach acid for a moment or two before he felt the life abandon it for the other world.

"Come in," he said, his voice raspier than usual.

A lesser demon entered his home, wearily grinning and taking very light, dance-like steps.

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorey loses enthusiasm, Rose gains it. Along with some other things

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It took me a while to realize how much I was borrowing from beauty and the beast, then i started to feel kinda disgusted with myself, so just pretend i never said that.
> 
> Also i'm on a roll. That feels pretty nice.

Elysia was totally haunted. She hadn't imagined it before, traces of some ethereal figure playing with some kid… But the more she thought about it, she realized it must've been Sorey and his summoned buddy. She resolved to give the creepy mountain village another chance when Brad said he was going. They needed parchment frequently, so they made the trip often enough.

It had been a couple months since Rose had last seen Sorey. She'd grown two more inches according to the notches brad carved on a support pillar in one of their caravans, and he assured her that Sorey wasn't done growing yet either, so it was probably impossible to get taller than him. She was a girl after all, so she had to accept such a fate.

"You steal these?" Brad asked her, poking at one of the iris gems in her hair. She flushed, because she certainly knew better than to steal, but Sorey had drilled the holes in them before she could get it together to remember to stop him.

"Sorry…" She mumbled, and Brad laughed.

"It's okay. Your friend said it was probably going to the institute, but they never replied to our missives, so the beads''ll just gather dust in our warehouse until we hear from them." Brad was way too forgiving, but only where Rose was concerned. "You can see them properly now, I take it?"

She nodded.

"They're neat, aren't they? I never told you this, but I did try summoning when I was younger. Not sure what possessed me, since it can be so dangerous."

"Did you get training? What did you summon?" She asked with wonder.

"For a while, we had a Sylph named Lafarga around. You probably don't remember him, since you were so tiny. Saved your life once or twice."

He grinned broadly at her again, and she was about to ask a dozen more questions but they went over a large bump and one of the horses make a displeased noise, and Brad left her to her thoughts to check on them.

Brad as a summoner. It made her wonder if she could really do it, like Dezel had said. It also made her wonder if that other Sylph was friends with Dezel, or related to his revenge in some way. She'd learned so much since meeting Sorey, even if not everything pieced together in the comfortable little box she kept herself in.

She twisted the iris gem in her hair idly, wondering further what she'd find in Elysia when they got there. Maybe she should actually meet Sorey's friend? It'd be kind of cool, maybe. The town felt really different somehow, and she could tell even though they weren't in it yet. She recalled Sorey had mentioned a barrier, but it seemed to be gone now. Maybe because he left, they lowered it? Judging by his talents, that might make some kind of sense. She had a bad feeling.

She peeked out the front of the caravan, Brad wearing a grim expression and Rosh, the only other member that came along, was hopping from the caravan and running behind to stop the other horses and prevent them from continuing on. "What's going on?" She asked, and Brad turned to her with an obviously forced smile.

"Nothing at all," he informed her, "Just a bit paranoid. Humidity is too high, and if we don't sell enough, all the parchment will be damaged for no reason."

She glanced around - where had all this fog come from? It was always so pretty and clear in Elysia, from what she remembered. The gates of the town were almost completely shrouded though, and if she hadn't remembered them being there she never would've noticed them.

Brad swore loudly and told her to stay put. She wasn't always the best at following orders, but this place definitely looked haunted now. Nobody was around, and as Brad jumped down she saw how his jaw was fixed in determination and she cowered.

Well… She hadn't _really_ wanted to go to Elysia anyway. Much better if she waited near the gate with the horses. Rosh had already turned back, so she couldn't talk to him to bide her time. Instead, she picked at a splinter coming loose on the floor, and then another, until she had a small pile of what looked like sawdust.

Wind stirred around her. It said they were leaving.

"Huh?" She knew it was Dezel, and was less afraid of him now, but it still frightened her just enough to make her hands shake.

"We're going. She's here."

"Who is 'she'?"

Instead of answering, the wind picked up, lifting her from her seated position and pushing her to the edge of the caravan so she could climb out, stopping just short of letting her fall from it.

"See?! This is why you're so freaky, Dezel! Cut it out!"

"Then move. And arm yourself."

"Arm myself? With what?" She raised her voice too much and the wind robbed it of volume, so it sounded more like a whisper. She growled at him and drew her belt-knife, more of a tool than a weapon, but it was all she had to work with.

The grass was wet and it soaked into her shoes quickly, but the wind kept urging her on, right to the side of a building so she could peek around it. She wasn't made of air, she reminded him, so she couldn't hide in plain sight. He growled that she needed to hurry up.

She lowered her body and snuck closer to where she heard noises, though she wasn't really prepared to fight she knew she had to be. It was in Dezel's tone, there was danger and she had to protect herself and make sure Brad was okay. By the time she heard him holler in pain, she realized that she'd broken into a sprint. Dezel's wind trailed her and pushed her even faster, and for the moment, she was glad of it.

Instead of bursting into the door as Dezel wanted, she climbed outside of a window to peer in, knocking over an empty bird's nest to make room for herself. She didn't see much, but a bloodstain on the floor and an old man, who seemed to have been dead for at least a day. Brad had once told her that it was a shame she knew so much of death at such an age, but she knew she could make use of it now. Changing her angle, she saw fresher blood pooling in another corner of the home.

"Brad!" She tried to call out, but once again Dezel's wind robbed her voice of power and it barely came out in a gasp. "Brad's hurt!" She hissed at him, not knowing what else to do. She was no healer, and she didn't know how to find Sorey's healer-friend...  "Can you fix him?"

"If you summon me."

"Fine! Tell me how!" She was clever, and figured that the 'She' Dezel sought was probably at least related to whoever was in there. Their fight would be the same.

She saw a faint grin, with sharp teeth, and cringed. "Start with your Name. You need a Name as a summoner or it won't work."

"Rose!" She reminded him, "My name is Rose and always has been, I'm not changing it for some dumb ritual!"

"Wrong language," He pointed out. " _Wilkis Wilk_ then. Never tell anyone what is it." He conveniently ignored the part that he was someone he shouldn't know either. He probably thought Rose didn't pick up on that, but it was closer to the truth to say she didn't care.

" _Wilkis Wilk_ …" She repeated, a weird feeling accompanying it that felt like her heart was swelling up in her chest to accept the words. "Fine, what's next?"

"Contract. Traditionally, they're--"

"I'm not learning a whole stupid language just for this! You'll have to follow the rules of my own, got it?" She waved her knife with her words as though she forgot she was holding it. The wind stirred pleasantly in agreement and she ducked her head, focusing on that same place in her heart where the Name imprinted. "I'm searching for the Sylph Dezel, so we can save Brad and seek revenge, mutually," she said, as though it were a proper incantation.

Wind spiraled about aggressively, and she heard a Name on it:

" _Lukeim Yurlin_!"

  


* * *

  
  


 

The act of illegal summoning wasn't often punished since it usually ended in death, but the sentence was often death anyway. Sorey knew he hadn't _summoned_ Mikleo back then, Mikleo had just appeared one day and stayed with him since he was a baby. The headmaster Heldalf hadn't seemed terribly convinced he was being truthful, but at the very least, Sorey knew he wasn't being punished for it. Well, probably.

The classes he hadn't tested out of, he had to accept from Heldalf from that point on. On the first day, he was given twelve scrolls to read aloud while Heldalf made notes and corrections to his pronunciations, and it simply seemed like the headmaster was buying time. He was indeed; he stood the moment his summoned spirit returned in a flash of darkness.

"Didn't quite go according to plan," She drawled boredly with a shrug and a tilt of her head, "May I proceed to my backup plan?"

Heldalf denied her request at first, just for a moment, and was about to speak when Sorey interrupted.

"What did you do?! Where did you go?"

The spirit's eyebrows raised and she glanced from him to Heldalf.

"Never interrupt me," Heldalf said, his voice deepened and intimidating. Sorey doubled down, unwilling to wait.

"But I have to know!"

Heldalf ignored his outburst, and turned to the spirit again. "Symonne. Did you learn what kind of spirit it was?"

"A teensy little water sprite," she said with a grin, "He was gone by the time I made it there. But it was funny - he kept trying to force his way back! As if he could fight! Ah, the fog was everywhere, it was a real nightmare..."

Heldalf's shoulders relaxed and Sorey was about to try to cut in once more before Heldalf glared at him and cowed him. "So what do you propose we do?"

"A little sprite like that won't be likely to be summoned by someone with his abilities," she pointed out,a grin spreading across her face, "But I think… To be on the safe side, I should give him a fear of water."

"Lock him into the other elements only, then?" Heldalf mused, looking Sorey over. His eyes looked so tired and aged beyond his years, but Sorey couldn't tell why. "Alright. Change his memories only as much as necessary."

"Wait-- Huh?"

Symonne approached him with her head tilted, eyes locked on his as she grew closer and closer-- and closer, and there was no room around them, just some strange spinning orange lights in her eyes, a wild laugh and he fell backwards into nothing.

He had a moment to try and puzzle everything out - she'd probably gone to Elysia to kill Mikleo. And she'd failed! He couldn't help but allow his relief to carry him away as though trapped in a current. So Mikleo was safe, and… Sorey would never be able to summon him? That didn't sound right, there was that mark on his heart where Mikleo belonged, and he knew that as long as it was there, nothing could break their bond, and Mikleo could always find his way back to him…

The current grew stronger, and he knew he had to fight it. Even if he had to play along in order to be a proper Summoner, he wouldn't lose this. He wasn't a strong swimmer, but he knew how to stay afloat, and he paddled helplessly through the thick waters, reaching out and taking a hand that was offered to him.

Only… Mikleo's hand was water, too. The pressure of the current cut right through the membrane Mikleo used as skin, and the rest of him spilled uselessly into the pool. The currents were spiraling and drawing both of them in, and though Sorey fought to find his footing, clawing uselessly where the edge of the pool had been, it swept him away, and his only comfort was that surely Mikleo wouldn't let him drown.

Mikleo? Weirdly, that name started to feel fuzzy, unrecognizable. Associated with it were games he played when he was small, and he remembered playing with another boy and having slumber parties and everything, but his face was new, and completely human. He was sinking with Sorey, and they were both small children and not strong enough to fight the current.

Right… He had a friend named Mikleo, but he died and Sorey nearly drowned when they fell into a flooded pit while exploring the woods… Was that it? It seemed to check out. They played games a lot and pretended to be summoners and spirits, but it was just games. Mikleo couldn't swim and Sorey never tried again after that day; in fact, for months he was scared to take a proper bath and just used a washcloth. Gramps even had to coax him to drink water by adding fruit and sugar to it.

Strange that he'd be thinking about that now, wasn't it? No, he'd just dozed off. The headmaster wanted him to learn something and he-- oh, he'd be in trouble. He snapped awake with a start and the room was empty.

He'd fallen asleep on the corner of the headmaster's desk, where he'd been handed those scrolls before. It was dark out, the narrow windows provided no light at all at this hour, but the little lamp sprites floated about somewhat actively. With the headmaster nowhere to be seen, Sorey decided to explore.

One tapestry covering a door he knew better than to open yet caught his eye; on it were the basic elemental seals, named for ancient 'gods' of each element. He reached to touch it, finding it not to be a woven tapestry, but beaded. In the center was the symbol for Maotelus, which was the symbol all Summoners wore once they passed the test. In cardinal directions, there were all the others. Hyanoa of Wind, Eumacia of Earth, Musiphe of Fire, and… Amenoch, of Water. He thumbed over the tiny beads of that crest, thinking about it deeply.

He couldn't avoid water forever. It was an element that gave life more often than took it, so he knew he would have to conquer his fears.

His chest throbbed dully and his brows furrowed. Some things didn't quite add up. His behavior had been really odd. Why did he spend so much time in Ladylake, a city surrounded by water? Why did he try to summon right after leaving town, while he was surrounded, again, by water? He knew there was a reason for it, but maybe he'd forgotten? His thoughts were so jumbled, and his chest hurt so badly he felt he might collapse. He gripped his clothing over his heart and stepped back from the door.

A different door opened creakily, and Heldalf stepped back inside. "You're awake," he observed, "Someone as young as yourself shouldn't need so much sleep."

"S-sorry…" Sorey apologized but he wasn't sure he meant it. He couldn't remember what they were doing when he fell asleep, he felt like they were interrupted, and maybe… No, nothing. "I'm better now," he tried to sound like he had more conviction, but his voice cracked instead.

"Memorize these by midday tomorrow," Heldalf said with a bluntness Sorey wasn't used to. He held three heavy scrolls and deposited them carefully into Sorey's hands. "You have talent, so use it. I'll be waiting for your testing day."

Sorey nodded, clutching the scrolls to his chest, but they were large and one poked his chin unpleasantly.

"Dismissed."

He left, feeling more confused than he'd ever felt before, and oddly hollow.

  


* * *

 

 

 

Memorizations were simple for Sorey. He had all three memorized and recited flawlessly in the required time, and the headmaster seemed pleased with him. He almost asked why he'd been given scrolls about earth, fire and wind but not water, but he feared learning that others knew of his phobia more than he feared the water. It was shameful to be so scared of something so essential.

He was given fourteen more to memorize by the week's end, and he had those memorized in less than a day, but Heldalf seemed a lot less pleased that time. "Tell me," he'd said, frowning, "Do you understand what the words you're saying mean?"

So he was given the rest of the week to meditate on them. It wasn't easy. He was too alone, he missed having a friend, and Gramps, to decipher such things with. He settled for his teacher, the cranky old woman, simply because he encountered her in the library and needed someone to bounce ideas off of. She put up with it in the way most elders did. He liked to think she found him somewhat endearing by the end of the week, but she still acted quite cranky.

It took him longer than he was proud of to realize someone had absolutely ransacked his room; he was messy on the best of days, but he knew where everything was. The circle under his rug had been smudged out, and his letters from home were missing, and his journal had pages torn out. When he mentioned it to the headmaster, he just looked down at him over his nose and said he ought to expect some forms of bullying, since he'd been taken under the headmaster's wing.

The solution was to move him from the dorms to a spare room in the headmaster's tower. It was much higher up, and though there was no way to fall out of those narrow windows, it made him just a bit uneasy for the first few nights. Though that didn't matter, because he was given a heavy tome to read in order to advance his studies and he was told to finish it quickly or his lessons would be put on hold.

Loathe to let that happen, Sorey tried to memorize that as well, but found it a bit above his level. He instead translated the entire text into a journal that had the first three pages missing. It took two months.

A letter arrived then, from Rose. It read simply: "We need to talk." At the bottom she'd doodled a bird skull. He didn't know what that meant, but figured she might've just thought it looked cool. He mailed her back saying that his studies were going well and keeping him very busy, but there was a holiday period once a year and she should visit so he could show her around.

He wondered if Gramps would mail him again. He enclosed a letter for her to forward to him, as well.

Studies were progressing, and that mattered, but he was having so much trouble motivating himself. He would walk the halls pacing in thought, listless, memorizing texts that meant little to him anymore.

"Teacher?"

"What is it, boy?" She had a pipe while she was reading. It didn't look like an informative book, more like a story. She knew all this material already, so he guessed she was done learning and could read whatever she wanted.

"Your Name. You felt you couldn't live up to it anymore," he started, trying to piece his own thoughts together, "What would've happened if you kept it anyway?"

She leaned back in the old library chair and puffed smoke, making one of the lamp sprites dodge it. It amused her. "I would've eventually lost my abilities," she explained, "It was already starting to happen. In a last-ditch effort, I tried to change it to keep my powers and contracts, but I was foolish. I had an expiration date."

He leaned forward and placed his head on his folded arms over the book he was reading. "What if I never live up to it?"

She gave him a crooked look, "Then you shouldn't _have_ it. You have it because it was meant to be yours. My specialty was my determination. Yours is in your Name, as well."

He sighed, looking at the massive pile of books he'd been given as required reading. When he first saw it, it had felt like a cakewalk, but getting through it was so difficult, and lonely. Being a Shepherd was going to be way more work than just being a Summoner. The method to become it was truly lost, after all. Someone had told him so before, but he couldn't recall who.

"If your friend helped you find it, obviously someone believes it suits you. Embrace it, and strive to accomplish it. Not everything has to happen right away."

He smiled wistfully and sighed again. It hadn't been very long before Mikleo had died that they'd found the name, one of the last fond memories he carried of him. It would've been nice if he could be sharing these experiences now, too. "Yeah… I wish he was here."

"Best to abandon thoughts like that, boy."

"Yeah," he quietly agreed, sitting back up and sighing one last time. "You're right…" His chest ached again, but he turned the page and resumed his reading. There wasn't much else he could do.

  
  


* * *

 

 

Sergei and his brother, Boris, taught lessons in fighting. Summoners were typically not fighters, but summoning was a skill that required training and endurance, and a great way to get there was though any type of physical fitness training. They were training as knights alongside their Summoner abilities, so they chose to teach combat skills.

Unfortunately, their lessons didn't start until the cold had arrived. Not freezing yet, but the rain that came down in the courtyard was so cold it burned, and water wasn't something Sorey dealt with well. Luckily, Sergei was his sparring partner, maybe out of pity since he wasn't in most normal lessons and hadn't made any new friends. The practice swords looked almost real, but with extremely blunt edges, so the worst they could leave on a person was an ugly bruise. Each lesson gave Sorey a few more, and he couldn't recall the last time he'd had a bruise last so long.

"You've caught the headmaster's attention!" Sergei said proudly between heavy swings, "You really are something special, aren't you?"

Sorey didn't feel special, and the statement threw him off enough that his foot slipped on wet rock, and he landed hard on his bottom. "I don't know about that… I think I just got in a lot of trouble."

"He wouldn't take in a probationary student like that," Sergei told him, offering his hand. Sorey took it and tried to dust off, but everything was so wet and heavy that it seemed to just make it worse. "Your reaction times are slow. Is something wrong?"

"I don't like being this wet," Sorey grumbled, frowning.

Sergei laughed at him, but not cruelly. He seemed to be in very good spirits. "We have half a year left until the dry season. May as well get used to it. Pendrago gets rained on five days a week until then."

Sorey groaned, but gripped his practice blade again. Sergei patted his shoulder.

"I think that's enough for today. You head inside first, you're already shivering."

He was about to argue, but realized he didn't want to, and climbed all the way up to his room to change into dry clothes as swiftly as possible. The tapestry of beads and elemental crests had been moved to his room, along with a few other decorations. When he thought to ask about it, Heldalf said it wasn't his decision, the cleaning staff thought to do it themselves, and he could have a nicely decorated room so long as he didn't damage anything left in there.

It acquired a few more things - one lamp sprite he tried to talk with sometimes, and he desperately tried to get it to read along with him, but it was stubborn and got distracted too easily. There was a flower vase on an old, rickety dresser that was once a beautifully carved masterpiece, and someone would put small arrangements in it on occasion, usually with whatever flowers were in bloom in the courtyard. There was also a planter next to the thin windows, but nothing was planted in it yet. He'd probably just grow rosemary if he could find the seeds.

Those things were all luxuries he knew were exclusively granted to him; in the dorms he'd cleaned up after himself, and if he wanted flowers he'd have to pick them and find a vase for himself, if he wanted anything more than a bed, dresser, desk and a rug, he was on his own. Here, there were invisible servants taking care of him without him even realizing it.

Though they didn't take care of his grooming. His hair was growing out; he thought maybe that had been a problem for a while, but someone had to have been cutting it. Sorey never really minded his hair much, but it did feel odd to be able to tie it back into a short tail. Well, some of it.

After a few minutes of relaxing and thinking on his situation, he sat back up and pulled a book over his lap, and started taking notes from it again. He wondered what the normal curriculum was like, because he certainly wasn't getting the same treatment as the rest of the students.

The work was hard, but his chest ached every time he thought about giving up. He had a _purpose_ for being there, and he knew he had to tough it out, but the reason felt just beyond his reach, somehow.

 

* * *

  
  


Cold. Cold. _Cold_.

Everything felt upside down after spending so many years on the other side. Mikleo curled up in a little ball in the water, sinking like a stone and concentrating. He still had some thin, flimsy claim on Sorey. He could still prevent other spirits from latching on even if Gramps had chased him away so effectively.

The currents changed as a grand leviathan swam past him. Another water sprite was gobbled up, still within his vision, and he curled up tighter.

He tried his best but all he could do was find Elysia again, smother it in fog that he tried desperately to control and compact together into a new body for himself. He watched his guardian from that world die, and the demon that did it tried to threaten him but couldn't reach him from where she was. Sadly, that was the only reason he was alive. He knew he was small, insignificant as a spirit, too new to have the power Sorey would need.

Within a day, the bond he held with Sorey had diminished even more, barely the thinnest thread left. Sorey was letting go, or perhaps in trouble. It felt wrong, but not in a way he could put together. Nothing made sense, his entire childhood crumbling. He watched another child lose her guardian in that same house, watched a sylph steal the girl away rather than fight, and he couldn't make any sense of that. But just like them, he had to live another day.

There were things he still had to say, things he still had to do - _he_ didn't have any plans for letting go, not like his best friend apparently did. He swam blindly out of the water and sat at the edge, his mostly-human shape more material in this world than the other. His core was here, which meant he could use more spells, and grow stronger, and whatever class a lowly water sprite fell into, he would surpass it.

Summoners only summoned beings that matched their abilities. Whatever it took, Mikleo would match Sorey's.

And then? He'd give him a piece of his mind.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deep breath. Life goes on.

It had been two weeks since Brad's death. Two weeks since Rosh found Rose's battered body lying on the side of the road in his path and assumed she'd fallen from one of the cliffs - she'd never corrected him, too ashamed to admit how badly she'd failed. She couldn't even see her enemy that day, just took Dezel's word that he'd heard the voice, and once she could confirm it she still couldn't see the source of it. Bored laughter. That's what it sounded like, without a person to attach it to.

She'd done her best to get to Brad's body and save him, but both she and her freshly-summoned sylph were thrown back, and if there was a window in which Brad could've been saved, it had passed. She tried not to remember that day, but instead it played back in her head repeatedly, gnawing away at her conscience. Maybe if she'd been better at fighting or summoning, her guardian would be alive. Maybe if she'd gone with him in the first place…

Truthfully, when she was found, Dezel had already mended the worst of her injuries that had threatened her life. Dezel had grabbed her and carried her away from the fight, though he was clearly reluctant to abandon his own chance for revenge. She knew better than to be mad at him, because she would've easily died if they'd kept trying to fight their invisible foe. Dezel might've, too.

She remembered shadows coming to life; when she tried to strike them they didn't exist, but when they swiped at her it was like being hit with a sack of bricks. She remembered the snapping of bones in her limbs, blood spilling from her forehead.

Dezel fixed almost all of it. She still had a swollen cheek and trouble walking on her left side, and a few small cuts that might scar, but she should've been way worse off.

She remembered more, sobbing hysterically as she told the others that Brad was dead, but the day itself was such a blur. That whole week was. She'd limped around in a stupor and tried to help Rosh and Eguille bury the bodies even when they tried, multiple times, to chase her away, to make her rest. She'd looked through the house and found vases and bottles emptied on the floor, but she couldn't tell if anything was missing since it was her first time inside. Dezel stole something he said would be useful, a letter, and Rose tried to tell him that stealing was wrong, but she just didn't care enough at the time.

The world was changing, and at her lowest, she began hiding like a wounded animal, scared and angry. The rest of the Sparrowfeathers checked on her frequently and she shouted them all away like they'd done her wrong, but in her heart she knew they hadn't. Their only crime was being unable to return her life to normal.

The green gem in her hair reminded her that nothing would be normal again. One still glowed with rainbow colors and the other was a soft, minty green.

She was to be given leadership of the Sparrowfeathers in Brad's place. He'd groomed her for the role, but she felt it was undeserved and let Eguille take care of it. Just temporarily. She knew she had to get better and live up to all Brad had planned for her.

The post was fast - she didn't actually remember sending any letters to Sorey but she must have, because he replied, and not in a very satisfactory way, since all it said was that he had no time at the moment. So she scowled at it for a good hour before sitting down to write a decent reply. She started, and Dezel seized control of her hand, which made her shriek.

"You alright?" Eguille called through the wall, his room right next to hers.

"Y-yeah, I'm fine!" She called back. She wasn't ready for any of them to know about Dezel. It wasn't as though the Sylph had done anything particularly mean-spirited, but she wasn't exactly pleased with him either. When she'd tried being mad because he hadn't fulfilled their contract, he pointed out that there was no contract because he knew her Name.

All of this summoning stuff was too complicated. She had no interest in it at all, and yet she was stuck with him because he said he wouldn't go away until they were finished.

"Why won't you let me write this? Sorey needs to know what happened to his grandfather!" She spoke to him in a whisper and he replied inside her head, which she _hated_ , so instead she drowned him out with a loud humming noise until he materialized beside her.

"Stop that. You're not a child."

"Stop being creepy then," She countered.

"Sorey can't know," Dezel finally answered, "because revenge will be mine. Not his, and not yours."

Rose glowered at him, tapping her desk with her pen and making a small ink-filled slice in the table. "So we can share if it's convenient to you, and you want to hide the death of a family member from my friend?"

Dezel tilted the brim of his hat without answering.

"I'm telling him."

"I'll take control of your arm again."

"Ugh, _fine_! Can I at least tell him it was natural causes?" She held her pen as though she was going to write it, and Dezel shook his head.

"He'll know that's not true when he goes home and sees the blood stain."

"Are all of you spirits so frustrating?"

"No. Some of us are summoned properly," he said, baring his teeth in a grin. She'd gotten used to his appearance over the past few weeks; he was very tall and broad, not what she would've expected for a wind elemental. He had wings but they weren't visible unless he flew, and all around him were slight distortions in the air. He always wore a hat and black, heavy-looking clothes. He never let her see his eyes. In short, he was a total weirdo.

She leaned over the paper again, writing something else, and as soon as he heard the pen write he retreated back into his gem. "There. I'm saying that our supply of paper for Elysia was ruined and he shouldn't expect mail from home and I'm sorry," she said, angrily, "But I want to be perfectly clear about this: I loathe you for making me lie to him. He's a nice person and he deserves better."

_Noted._

"And stop talking in my head, it's gross."

Silence followed and she savored it. Tomorrow, or the next day, or even next week, she'd be better.

  


* * *

 

 

 

Sorey only felt a little disheartened when he received the letter, but he saved it in a trunk at the end of his bed, a new piece of furniture moved there while he wasn't around. His one-on-one classes with the headmaster were exhausting, but he didn't mind being pampered as much as he should have.

He wouldn't hear from Gramps. Well, it'd be okay. Sorey would focus on his studies and have something good to report by the time he did hear from him.

There wasn't much free time anyway; it kept raining so he kept indoors for his studies when he didn't join Sergei for practice, which he had a lot of fun with. He had a knack for swordfighting. Hearing that from someone older than him made it feel more like an accomplishment than it should have. The bruises were well worth it.

He was told when to attend other classes at times, for things the headmaster didn't want to teach him; actually, the headmaster was a rather poor teacher, and usually just handed the material to Sorey and told him to learn it. That was fine, Sorey was exceptionally good at retaining information he read on his own. Even still, he liked the opportunities to listen to other instructors.

One class in particular left an impression on him; an instructor summoned a wind sprite just before students arrived and had it waiting there silently. The instructor was a middle-aged man with good posture and a wide middle, and he paced the front of the room looking over a book but not reading it. Sorey wondered if it was an act, but before he could decide whether it was or not, the book snapped shut as every student had entered the room.

"No, no, don't sit near the back. You want a closer look today, of course. Come, come." The teacher gestured enthusiastically for the students who'd chosen to sit in the back to move forward. Sorey always sat up front anyway, but he seemed to have a much higher drive to learn than the others. "Good, good. Now, what I have today is a typical sprite. They're the basic elementals, usually little more than food for other, stronger creatures. This one is, obviously, wind. Take a look, take a look."

He had a strange way of repeating himself, Sorey thought, but leaned in to get a closer look at the sprite instead of focusing on the teacher. It was standing, and still wouldn't have been taller than Sorey's hip. Its body was mostly humanoid but also looked like warped air, and its skin wasn't skin, it looked like glass. Inside that, it looked like a windstorm had picked up green powder and was swirling it around in a pretty, smokey way. The sprite looked around nervously with wide, round and colorless eyes. It was clearly very young.

"See, it's solidified even though it's made up of air. Fascinating, isn't it?" The teacher stepped around the sprite and then lifted it by the back of its neck. It appeared cruel but the sprite didn't do much to react, not until the teacher then reached under its skin. It let out a shriek and the teacher gave it a shake and told it to be silent, but it still writhed and opened its mouth as if it was crying out but had no voice. Sorey fidgeted, but trusted that he must know what he's doing, he must've done it dozens of times.

The teacher then pulled something out of it and the body of the sprite completely vanished into puffs of smoke. It seemed like no more than a small polished pebble.

"This is a core. It's the heart of all elementals, and essentially, this is what we summon from their world, not the rest of them. They can build their bodies from matter around them once they're pulled here, and whatever made up their bodies in their own world will return to nature as well."

"What happened to the sprite?" Sorey blurted out, too uncomfortable to keep his silence.

"Good, good question. It's still all here, in this core. After it rests for a few hours it will gather itself back up and be as good as new." The teacher was very pleased, but Sorey didn't think it was about the question at all. "In their world, a sylph or a wyvern, or any wind-aligned spirit would eat this core to grow its own power. And in that same vein, they can eat each other's cores to grow more powerful too. A stronger sprite will have a larger core. The weakest ones will have one no bigger than a grain of sand."

"So if a sprite gets strong enough, could they potentially eat the cores of larger creatures as well?" A girl who'd been sitting toward the back and looked appropriately horrified by the display asked. Another classmate chuckled as though they didn't think much of the question.

"Well, potentially, I suppose it could happen. The stronger the being, the more solid they can make themselves, and it would be harder to reach their cores. But they do have to eat sometimes. Larger spirits eat the lesser ones for sustenance, and sprites are… well, bottom-feeders." The teacher paced about and placed the sprite's core on the desk at the front of the room. It rolled unevenly to a place where the wood dipped and then sat there. Sorey couldn't help feeling uncomfortable about it; the sprite had looked like it was in such pain, and he fidgeted throughout the rest of the lecture.

Afterward, the little pebble had grown into a tiny almost-person again, and once the students were filing out of the room it trotted up to Sorey and tugged his sleeve.

Sorey had seen this sort of thing happen once already with that so-called giant, so he knew not to draw attention to it, ducking into a corner to see what it wanted. It gestured at its mouth. "Can you speak?"

It breathed audibly after that, a long, relieved sigh, and looked up at him brightly, hopeful. "I can now. Thank you. Can you send me home please?"

Sorey glanced around, and once he was satisfied nobody was watching him, he patted the sprite on the head and dismissed it, allowing it to dissolve into nothing. He hoped it would get stronger so it wouldn't end up being hurt again. He'd been hunting before, he understood the food chain, but he didn't agree with causing something pain for a lesson.

"Did anyone see where the sprite went?" The teacher called out to the students. Nobody answered, and Sorey hurried away.

  


* * *

 

 

 

Sorey didn't know his birthday, but he was almost fifteen by the time he saw Rose again. She'd gotten taller and her hair had grown longer. She wore a hood and dark clothing and a scowl. He thought it didn't suit her.

"It's been a while!" He pointed out cheerfully.

"No kidding," she said, shifting her weight on one foot, "Your clothes don't fit anymore. Come on, I'm taking you into town." She grabbed his arm, and with that he was pulled away from the school for the first time since arriving. She knew her way around so well he might've thought she'd taken up residence in Pendrago, but that wasn't right. She probably just supplied a lot of the shops with wholesale goods. "Here, this should fit. Try it on." She shoved a shirt at him and he looked it over. It was dark green and plain, but the fabric was very high quality.

He frowned, but he slipped his shirt off to try on the new one, and it fit quite well.

"You're gonna owe me, but I'll pay today." Rose said, handing him trousers next. They were also dark, but black this time, with adjustable belts to keep them fitted evenly over the legs. "Hyland's Princess is coming to visit the area, and I already heard you're Heldalf's pet project. If you meet her, you have to be dressed nicely."

Sorey couldn't deny an interest in meeting the princess, but he just looked baffled since he hadn't had a clue about such an important visit. "How do you know all that?"

"I've been in town for a week. Gathering information is part of what I do."

"Ohh, so you can judge how current events will affect sales?" He was surprised at how dedicated she was. She simply glanced at him and nodded.

She helped him pick three different outfits and he grimaced at the cost of it all together, but she paid and had it packed up and they left. She didn't take him back to the institute. Suspiciously, she took him to an alleyway that an establishment seemed to be using as storage. It was gated off on one side. "Now, you pay me back," she said, slipping her hood off.

The iris gems in her hair were the first things Sorey noticed. One was still glowing with rainbow colors, but the other was only green. Sorey's eyes widened and he was about to ask her something before she shushed him.

"Yes. I summoned Dezel illegally. Yes, he knows my dumb Name, and yes, I regret a whole lot of things," She started, "Brad died. I tried to save him using Dezel but it was too late and we had to run." She recited that almost reluctantly.

"So… what did you need me for?"

"How do I use him?" She asked.

"You can't," Sorey said in a softly apologetic tone, "If he knows your Name, you'll probably have to follow _his_ orders, not the other way around."

Rose huffed and folded her arms as Sorey explained how it worked in the easiest way he could think of, and why she couldn't change it. "I don't know why I can't change it if I don't have a contract I want to keep, anyway," she pointed out aggressively. Sorey didn't know the answer either, but that didn't mean there _wasn't_ one.

"If he's hurting you, we could go to the school and subdue him…" Sorey offered, but he was hesitant. Rose would be punished for attempting to summon without a license, even if Dezel was being outright cruel to her. It seemed a little unfair, but maybe they could come up with a way to make it seem accidental...

She was silent for a moment, and then folded her arms. "...No, he's not hurting me. He's just pissing me off." She relaxed a little, and Sorey figured that maybe Rose and Dezel could work this out if she didn't want to get rid of him that badly. He relaxed too. "Okay, so… Instead of repaying me with that, I'll let you know I stole the map you sent back home. I needed it and your friend wasn't around, so…"

"Oh, I could've given you a copy-- wait, huh?" He didn't remember telling Rose about any friends. In fact, near the end of his time in Elysia he was horribly alone, he had no friends, the only person he was closest to was Gramps. Maybe that's who she meant. In that case, she also trespassed, which… well, Gramps wouldn't have minded since she was Sorey's friend, probably. Had he mentioned Mikleo and forgotten to use past tense, perhaps?

"I'm going to break into the school and borrow a few books on the dumb language I need to learn."

Sorey flinched, unused to someone blatantly confessing wrongdoings, or even future wrongdoings to him. "You shouldn't do that! I'm sure they'll let you enroll here, just hide Dezel for now and--"

"No, I have too much to take care of. I can't stay tied down here," She pointed out, and Sorey had to agree it made sense, since there was probably a lot going on in her life if her guardian was dead. "Look, I just want an ally in there. Can it be you?"

"Of course!" Sorey insisted quickly, "Why don't I just check out the books you need? That way we can avoid the breaking in part altogether."

"Are you allowed to have them for months?" Rose looked sheepish, "I'm not the best at this sort of thing. It might take me a while to get the hang of it."

"Better if they think I lost it in my room than not knowing where it is, don't you think?" He wouldn't hold up well under scrutiny, but it felt like the better alternative. He didn't like either option, but he knew Rose needed help, and he trusted her.

"Okay," she agreed, with some reluctance. There was something more to it, but she wasn't willing to tell him, so Sorey resolved to wait. She was going through a great deal and he had to be understanding. "Okay. Let's keep moving." She tugged him from the alley and into the street again, and they browsed a while longer until Rose decided acting natural wasn't one of Sorey's strong suits. She waited outside of the school gates that evening with her hood over her hair and he passed her the best language references he could find wrapped up in one of the paper bags the clothes she'd picked for him came in.

He somehow knew he wouldn't see her or those books for months, but he did trust her to return.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Technically I've been sitting on this all week, i just didn't want to update three times in one week.
> 
> I think I'm almost at the point I can write in a time skip, but...


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Learning and growing.

There were some hurdles that hard work just couldn't surmount. He'd always believed in working hard, and he committed to it, and for it he had nothing to show.

The land was muddy and unpleasant, he kept sinking in it and resorting to crawling through, his body heavy as earth tried to hold on to him tightly. Every time he found his footing, the mud bubbled up again, and he struggled to keep washing it away in time. The creature had tried to eat him, so he had to fight. While younger sprites didn't have the self-awareness for survival, it was instinct that drove him to continue on. Self-aware as he was, he nearly felt depressed enough to let go. Nearly, but not enough.

Mercilessly, one of its heads lunged forward and spat venom on him, searing his body and making him stumble back into the mud. He covered his mouth to silence a pained cry, and on his knees and one hand he struggled back to his feet. Mud pulled at his heels with every step and the hydra slithered after him on its large belly, its large body better suited to the mud than the human-shape most sprites adopted.

He'd never be more than what he was. He could grow in strength and be the strongest sprite in existence, but he'd still just be a sprite.

His next few steps were aided by fallen branches, and spurred by more venom boiling against his back. He felt as though he were dissolving. He'd never known pain like that, too sheltered by Elysia and Gramps and Sorey. He'd never wanted to come back to this world, fearing for his life. Rightfully so.

Tears stung his eyes, and oddly enough, they hurt worse than the venom burns.

Why did he fight? He knew that he was meant for little more than food. His core was just a stone that had been conductive to magic, soaked it in and would be easily eaten by other, stronger creatures. His body was temporary, as soon as it was defeated he'd either wait a few days and recover it or his core would be absorbed into the beast, making him part of a greater whole. Perhaps that would be easier than being angry at Sorey. Even if he felt betrayed, he didn't know that fighting for his life constantly was worth it.

He gripped a ledge where the earth was solid and he pulled himself up, yelping and letting go as teeth crushed down on his leg. His jaw slammed hard on the rocky surface and he was dizzied for it, but instinct drove him to reach for the creature's face, his fingers digging into it and freezing its flesh until it howled and released him. His body was water, wounds like that bite would fade soon, but the toxic spittle of the hydra would prolong his pains.

Another head dove to grab him before he fell back into the mud and he swiped at it to make sure he'd fall back into the muddy trap, his thoughts completely empty of reason. Three heads were all coming down and he recoiled, the water in the mud freezing suddenly in long spires, lancing all three of them right through their open mouths. The beast stilled.

Mikleo breathed heavily, wide eyed and pained, and curled up tight. His body felt so cold. He'd never made such fast use of ice before. He'd never felt such _fear_ before. Blood and poison oozed down the frozen spires and he only managed to get to his feet when it got too close to him. He'd have a hard enough time purging his body of venom already, he didn't want to deal with more of it.

It wasn't a particularly strong hydra, he surmised, looking over its massive corpse with the kind of scrutiny he used to give books. It had only three heads, so it was probably quite young, or at least inexperienced, but it was still a hydra, a creature far more powerful than a sprite. He refused to believe he'd just been lucky.

Courage welled up in him and he knew he needed it. He'd needed it every time some creature chased him, and finally he'd found it after weeks of being chased and beaten down, of fleeing and hiding.

Focusing on conjured water, he sharpened it into a curved blade and sliced the creature's belly open, careful of its organs so he wouldn't accidentally poison himself more. It was a grotesque kind of offal, and before scavengers came to pick away at it, he sifted through and found its heart, still glowing with its magic. Creatures with more solid physical forms like a hydra couldn't revive the way sprites could, so it would go to waste if he didn't take it.

The stone in it was an ugly dark green, and he held it in his hand like it was poisoned too. It was much larger than his heart, but as its magic drained into his body, his barely grew. He still felt hardly larger than a grain of sand. He wasn't discouraged, not any longer.

He thought of Sorey, reached for him, to compare their abilities, and knew that if he could just continue on, he could catch up to him. He thought of Sorey's face, smiling and proud of him for going on, and his bitterness at their parting felt a little less important.

He would catch up. The empty stone was abandoned in the mud, and surely it would absorb the land's magic again and spawn a new beast, but Mikleo would move on and grow stronger.

  


* * *

  


 

There was a new chef in the kitchens and he seemed to take a liking to Sorey. He wasn't the best chef, but he was a Summoner, and he had a whole kitchen staff worth of beings he called on to help him prepare food. Sorey found it curious, but it was fun and interesting to watch them work, so when he snuck into the kitchens he'd sit at the counter and the old man would tell him entertaining stories, and direct his summons at pauses in his narrative. He'd toss a piece of bread at Sorey and slide him a bowl of whatever he was making, reminding him that growing boys needed lots of nourishment.

He kept a pipe and it reminded him of home. It was nice, even if he was just a bit homesick. He wished dearly that Rose would get paper to Elysia so he could hear from Gramps. By then it had been months.

"You're so interesting, Mayvin," Sorey said, his mouth full even though he knew it was rude. "Why did you learn to Summon and get a license if you're not going to stay affiliated with the institute?"

"Travelling is easier," Mayvin told him, reading a recipe, "I take odd jobs when I need to, since supplies aren't cheap, but I'm not suited to teaching or being one of those roaming Summoners on loan from Rolance. I only have a license because I didn't want to get caught without one."

"So you summoned before you were trained?"

"Oh, sure, a lot of people do. They won't admit it, but they do. Are you trying to tell me you never tried?" He grinned at Sorey's sheepish reaction. "A lot of power out there goes to waste because they can't put in the time this school requires. They either give up or end up dead, usually. It's a real shame."

Sorey took another bite of his bread while he thought on that. He'd gotten in for free based on talent and a recommendation, but he was young and had a free schedule aside from a few chores. Someone like Rose, with more responsibilities, definitely couldn't afford the time even if she had enough for a fee to enter. "I think I know someone who could use your help, when you set out again," Sorey decided.

Rose deserved to be properly educated. He could trust Mayvin, he knew that because Mayvin had trusted him with the secret of his pre-licensed illegal summoning. His worry for Rose outweighed any other concerns, so he began sharing what he could of Rose and Dezel, and Mayvin looked grim the whole time.

He got what he wanted though. Mayvin agreed to look into Rose's situation. If Rose needed more allies, Sorey wanted to make sure they found her.

After finishing his meal he walked back to his room and read another book. According to Heldalf, by the age he'd be allowed to summon he ought to have half the library memorized, and that seemed rather daunting, but he knew he needed to keep at it if he wanted to stay and keep learning.

Heldalf though, he wasn't the best teacher, always tired, and only directing him to read something new, think about it, draw diagrams, but he never explained himself well, just demanded more and more. Sorey could memorize things quite well, he had a talent for it, but grasping the material's meaning sometimes required more explanation.

When the cold of winter was upon Pendrago, the stones on one side of his room were always warm, chimney-adjacent from the fireplace in Heldalf's quarters. There were other ways to keep warm of course, but to keep it simple, he pushed his bed to that corner one day.

The window closest to those stones had a bird nesting in it. It reminded him of home with its soft orange feathers, and he resolved to help it stay alive during the winter, bringing it scraps of bread until he'd mentioned it to Mayvin and been scolded; birds needed more than just bread to live on, so he was sent back upstairs with a small pouch of grains and a slice of fruit instead.

For all the small reminders that made him homesick, he didn't think he wanted to return yet. He felt too strongly that he had something to prove, even if he wasn't sure what that was yet.

A winter festival  approached, and the halls were transformed with dried fruits and branches as decorations, and that was when he finally heard from someone other than Rose that a princess from Hyland was coming to visit. There was to be a party and the grand hall was to be cleaned and appropriately garnished with all the festive trimmings winter could provide. Evergreens were everywhere.

Lamp sprites were scattered about and some of them sang in an old language Sorey didn't know, but he listened attentively anyway. He'd never heard them sing before, and since he could scarcely understand when they wished to talk, he wanted to know more. The one in his room was so grouchy at times. Maybe if he learned the song, he could get it to open up to him.

The day of the festival, Sorey wore the best of the clothes Rose bought for him, and tied some feathers into his hair, for a touch of home. He'd have to cut it eventually, but he rarely found the time to deal with more than trimming his bangs to make sure they weren't in his face when he read. He missed home. He always had help there cutting it, even if he couldn't recall who'd done it for him last.

Heldalf appeared in the door to his room to gather him and give him a cloak to wear for the festival, one that marked him as a Summoner in training. Most of the students weren't given such a thing anymore, he was told. He needed to wear it proudly. He was also given strict instructions to stay at the headmaster's side, which he didn't really like. It wasn't as though Heldalf was unkind, but he felt a little uneasy, and he'd looked forward to meeting people.

Upbeat music rang out from a small band in the corner. Long tables of food lined each side of the enormous room, and the massive hearth at one end had two people minding it with roasting meat. The air smelled wonderfully spiced, and he almost followed his nose right to the food until Heldalf grabbed his collar and held him still.

"Bow," came the quiet command, and Sorey did as he was told, then rose to find a girl about the same age as him, or perhaps a little older, the same one he'd seen talking to Sergei and Boris in Ladylake. She wore a dark blue dress and her hair pinned to her head with fabric cut in flower shapes decorating it. He smiled brightly at her and she returned it, along with a curtsy. Her long skirts almost touched the floor, and dipped onto it just a touch when her knees bent.

She exchanged pleasantries with Heldalf for a few minutes and Sorey merely stood there awkwardly, hoping he'd be given permission to speak, but he'd started to tune them out and look longingly at the tables of food by the time the princess took his arm and guided him toward the table. He was startled, but she seemed sure of herself and when he glanced back at Heldalf he only saw his back moving farther away. He must've missed something important.

"You look pretty hungry," she said, amused. "I've sampled a couple things already. I must say, you all eat quite well here. I'm glad your school is funded well enough for this. Ladylake had a Summoner's institution as well, but it wasn't maintaining itself well financially, so it was shut down before I was even born."

Sorey nearly drooled as he grabbed the first thing that was in reach, a mixed-fruit pastry that was sugar-glazed and topped with a flavorful seed that grew to the north. He could immediately tell it wasn't Mayvin's work, it was too good for that, so either Mayvin had moved on or there was extra hired assistance for the festival. He hoped for the latter. "I wish that one still existed! I came here all the way from Elysia," he said, forgetting his manners.

She laughed, "You would've had a much easier time. That's unfortunate." After a moment, he realized she was waiting for him to finish the pastry before she continued, so he ate it faster. "I've heard a lot about you. I'm told you show a lot of promise."

"Eh? Who said that?"

She was amused by his lack of decorum, apparently. She hid another laugh behind a gloved hand. "A few people. I'm not sure how one can tell if a Summoner has promise, do you know? I have no skill with any of this, so I would never be able to see."

"Um… Well, I can't tell either, Princess. I think it's the spirits themselves that can tell us."

"Please, Alisha is fine," she assured him before continuing, taking a slow step along the side of the table and trying to indicate that he should walk with her. "That's really marvelous. I wish I had your talents, Sorey."

He gave a short nod, and grabbed something else from the table, a leg of some bird that had been cooked in a clay oven and spiced in such a way that the meat on the bone was orange-red. He'd missed a proper dinner, so it felt more than incredible to have food in his stomach. "I don't really understand why everyone can't do it," he said, not thinking through his thoughts.

"There are many talented people who feel that way about their crafts. Musicians who can't understand someone with no sense of rhythm, painters who can't see why anyone couldn't simply pick up a brush and practice their way to greatness. Magical talents must be the same."

"I dunno," Sorey thought out loud, "I think, with a lot of practice, maybe anyone _could_ learn. But not everyone has the will to practice."

"Maybe," she agreed, waiting again for him to finish eating. "Would you like to dance?"

"I don't know how," he answered quickly, but took her offered hand anyway.

"That's fine, I can lead. I'll teach you." She pulled him to the center of the room, where people had indeed begun dancing. "I'm actually not fond of this sort of party," she admitted, "It took me years to learn to dance properly, and I'm still scolded for not being very ladylike." Despite that confession, her steps were adept and fast - Sorey tried to keep up and was relieved when the musicians began a song with a slightly slower tempo.

As the night kept on, Alisha moved on to talk to some of the instructors and some visiting nobility, and Sorey stuck with the food tables. He managed to talk to Sergei, who seemed a little on-edge, and one other student who had brought a book along with them to the party. Sorey felt that was an amazing idea, and filed it away for the next time this festival came around.

It would be a year until then, but he would remember. He went to bed that night with a full belly, and a head swimming with thoughts that seemed vague and formless. He wanted to tell someone he'd met a princess, but there was no one to tell other than Gramps, and he wasn't there.

He resolved to write a letter in the morning.

  


* * *

 

 

 

Rose's shorthand was something the Sparrowfeathers began using as code, because nobody could read or understand it except people who knew and understood Rose. Since all of them knew it, she was sure to hid her notes well. She wasn't the studying type, and it bothered her to be poring over books so much.

She read her note aloud and waited. Dezel materialized in front of her table and folded his arms. "Passable. Your pronunciations are off on words with L sounds in the middle, though."

"Fine," she said, scrawling a few marks on the edge of her paper, "What's the proper way?"

"Remember my Name? You pronounced it right that time."

"Because I heard it and repeated it. Why can't you just teach me?" She argued. She knew she was being unreasonable, but didn't particularly care. She didn't have the mind for this like Sorey did. "Seriously. Recite it and I'll repeat it."

"If it doesn't come from you, it won't mean anything and the spell will fail." He told her.

"Okay, so I'll tell you what I want it to say and you translate it. Will that work?"

"Possibly," he shrugged, "Most Summoners prefer to follow the rules though."

"Most Summoners aren't me," She huffed. She had little patience for his behavior, but she didn't mind it as much as she had when he scared her. Perhaps enough time had passed that she felt easier about Brad's death. "What do you think I should summon, when I do? Maybe something huge to crush her?"

Dezel let out a short laugh and dipped his hat in embarrassment for it. He was shy about the oddest things. "I told you I won't be sharing my revenge. You ought to be summoning creatures I can eat for strength."

She pulled a face and he didn't react. She got back to her pitiable attempts at study. They remained silent for hours until Eguille tapped on her door. "You awake?" he asked quietly, and she told him to come in as soon as Dezel withdrew back into the iris gem.

"I know it's late, and I tried to turn him away. Do you remember Mayvin? He says he needs to see you urgently." He didn't fully open the door, and spoke in a hushed tone.

Rose was startled, and shuddered at the thought of seeing him now. She yanked the iris gems from her hair, knowing she'd have to hide them. Mayvin was the first Summoner she met, he'd definitely be angry with her. "Can you tell him I'm asleep?"

"...Yeah. So you'll see him in the morning?" She nodded gravely and Eguille backed out of the door, shutting it softly. Dezel reappeared and folded his arms again. It was something of a default stance for him, but it made him look moody.

"Who's that?" He asked.

"A Summoner who knew Brad. Who knows _everyone_." Dezel hummed as he thought about that. "He's a nice person but I can't let him know, so you have to hide," she said, stuffing the iris gems underneath some clothes in the bottom of her storage trunk.

"Fine. Hide the books too."

"Right!" She exclaimed, grabbing them and shoving them just as deeply under the messy pile of clothing. "Okay. I guess I should actually sleep then… You don't think he knows, do you?"

Dezel didn't respond right away, and she knew why. He could listen from far away, and he would sometimes eavesdrop if he thought it would be relevant to either of their interests. "Can't say."

"Great…" She faltered.  Nothing else she could do. No way would she be able to focus on studying that evening. Instead, she climbed into bed with her clothes on and waited for Dezel to disappear before closing her eyes.

If Mayvin knew, she wasn't sure if she ought to be relieved or mortified, but she supposed she'd find out soon enough.


End file.
